


Dangerous Love

by vthelarrie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballet, Bullying, Fluff, Football, Homophobic Language, Insecure Harry, Insecure Louis, M/M, Pining, but also a lot of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-02-13 08:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21491659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vthelarrie/pseuds/vthelarrie
Summary: Harry’s the captain of the football team but no one knows he has a secret passion for dance.One day, ballet dancer Louis forgets his backpack in the academy and catches Harry in the middle of his private practice. Harry makes him swear he never saw a thing.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 60
Kudos: 397





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> This idea belongs to my lovely friend Cassidy (@lwtbrightside on twitter), and was so lovely to let me use it! Also a huge thanks to my girl Claire for answering my questions about ballet. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to leave kudos and comments<3

**»»–––** ** H ** **–––««**

Harry fell on his ass again. Honestly, how hard could it be to land on his feet for once? Well, maybe if he spent more hours actually practicing ballet instead of wasting his time on football, he would have mastered his _double tour en l’air _months ago, fuck, maybe he would be practicing a _double cabriole_ by now.

With anger boiling inside him he stood up, he was determined on getting that step today, or, at least be able to land it on his feet this time. Whilst drinking water Harry watches the clock that’s hanging from the studio’s wall and he realizes he’s going to be late for practice, again. He still doesn’t understand why his coach hasn’t kicked him out of the team yet, yes, he is very good and also the captain of the team, but he still arrives at almost every single practice late without a single explanation. It’s not like he can complain, he doesn’t want to explain why he arrives late to most practices, nor explain why he always arrives out of breath and already warmed up.

Well, a few more minutes won’t hurt anyone, he thinks as he gets in the middle of the room to practice his steps again. He waits for his teacher, Mrs. Teasdale, to give him a nod so he can start from the top. Once he starts practicing again, he completely loses himself into the dance, he’s not just Harry, the closeted gay boy, the school’s captain, the popular kid; he is one with the music, moving in sync with it, engaging with it in a way he’ll never be able to express with words.

Harry finishes around ten minutes after that, already so late for his football practice he’s not even sure the coach will let him play at tonight’s game. Harry quickly says goodbye to Mrs. Teasdale and head towards the changing room, where he puts on some joggers and a tank top as fast as possible, not even worrying about folding his ballet clothes right. The dancer pulls out his phone and unblocks it to see if there’s any news.

“Shit” Harry says as he scrolls through his messages. He opens his chat with Liam, where he sees that there’s plenty of messages waiting for him.

**Liam: ** _Mate, where are you??_

_H????_

_Practice starts 10 minutes c´mon_

_Its game night mate coach is furious with you_

_Get your ass in here asap. _

Harry runs through the hallways of his ballet academy, rushing out a goodbye to the lady in the reception and getting into his car. Breath heavy, it takes his three tries to get his car to start, because he still hasn’t fixed it, and quickly enough he’s driving towards his high school.

When he gets a red light, he takes his phone to send a quick message to Liam, apologizing for being late and telling him he’s on his way to school. He sees Liam asking him what took him so long and Harry decides not to reply.

One would think that because he’s been hiding his passion for dace since he moved into this small town, he would be better at lying. Except he’s not. He never had to hide when he lived in London with his family, but since moving to Doncaster -a tiny town where you get judged for breathing-, he couldn’t help the need to hide himself, to try to feel accepted in the middle of all the teenage boys in town.

It wasn’t really that hard, to be completely honest, his academy was a good and long drive away from his school, far enough to get there without having the risk of casually bumping into someone who could recognize him. 

Then, there’s also the fact that nobody in this town knows he’s gay, because, _how could the star of school captain of the football team, ever be gay? God forbids_. But. It could be harder, he assumes, at least he only has to worry about hiding himself, without the complication of having a boyfriend or liking someone. In all honesty, Harry hadn’t thought about dating in so long he had actually forgotten the feeling of what it’s like to be infatuated by someone. He had more important things to worry about, and stuff he could actually get caught, like ballet.

He parks in his school and runs as fast as he can towards the pitch, where practice is most likely taking place; he knows the coach likes to discuss tactics before a big game, which was exactly what they had tonight.

“Fucking finally” his coach, Mr. Cowell, says as he approaches the field. “You better bet your ass you’re paying for this, Styles”.

“Sorry, coach”, Harry says once he’s standing next to Liam, who is giving him a skeptical look.

Cowell just shrugs and resumes his explanation about a new distribution he wants to try tonight. Harry just follows instructions, not really putting much effort onto his performance on the field; he’s really tired today, all he can think about is how to master that bloody double that’s been bothering him for weeks, and he’s not really looking to get injured. The thing with doing two sports at the same time is that, even if you don’t want to, you have to prioritize one of them, and for Harry it’ll only be ballet, so he decides to play football with just enough effort to spare himself from a punishment. 

Practice drags on slowly, too slow for Harry’s liking. It’s not that he doesn´t like football _per se_, he enjoys it, to an extent. He likes watching it, and playing for fun, but he doesn’t really understand his classmates’ obsession with the sport, nor does he ever see himself dedicating to it for a lifetime. But once again, probably his classmates wouldn’t understand his obsession with ballet, so.

Many hours later they have played one of the best matches in their season, according to all the audience. Thanks to this victory they now have a chance to win the regional cup, which would help a lot of his friends to get scholarships; Harry’s really happy for them, and he will try his best to help them achieve that, even if he doesn’t care about one for himself. For now, Harry is just happy to be able to head home.

“Hey, Harry”, it’s Liam coming up from behind him, wrapping an arm around his neck and ruffling his curls. “We smashed it, huh?”

“Yeah” Harry smiles weakly at him, he really likes Liam, he’s a good guy and doesn’t make stupid comments like the rest of his team. “You did really good, by the way, wouldn’t have won without you”.

“You’re too sweet, H” Liam smiles, “but, hey, I think Stan’s throwing a party tonight, you up for it?”.

Harry feels his heart drop, it’s like this after almost every match, even when they lose there’s always someone willing to throw a party, and Harry usually ends up going to all of them, mainly because he tries to avoid the potential comments from people, and tries to stay away from gossip as much as possible, and, since he’s the captain of the team and “a jock” he should go to all of them. 

“Sure, let’s go” he ends up saying, because why not?

He gets in his car and does the too familiar way to Stan’s house. Harry uses the way there to listen to some classical music, in order to get used to the compositions he’s using for his new routine at the academy. He’s trying really hard to be more than just the guy with good technique or nice figure; he wants to be able to transmit something with his dancing, to make the audience happy or sad with his movements, to be more.

Once he arrives to the party, he starts the usual rounds of greetings to a bunch of people, most of them calling him by his name, making him feel really bad when he can only recall a few of them. Harry really tries not to be _that guy_, not to be the popular unachievably guy, but sometimes it gets hard to know everyone, especially when he spends his time in between football and ballet practices. Stan introduces him to some of his friends, Harry politely introduces himself back, but excuses himself when he sees a Niall.

“Heeeey, Nialler!” Harry shouts in his friend Niall’s ear. They had gotten to meet each other last year when they were paired up to do a chemistry project together; they both hated the subject, so they spent most of the class talking about nothing, and that’s how their friendship had started.

“Oh, captain, my captain” Niall responds, and Harry can tell immediately his irish friend is getting drunk fast. “Long time, no see, my dear Harold. Here, have one with ya old friend”, the blonde one says handing Harry a beer.

Harry only thinks about it for a second before gulping down the content, he doesn’t have training in the morning, and his classes at the academy are after lunch, giving him enough time to sleep on his hangover.

With cheers around him he takes another beer and starts making his way around the party, determined to have a good time.

-

Harry’s drunk.

It’s been a few hours since the party started and somehow, he’s not really sure when or how, he can no longer stand up correctly, his vision is getting blurry and he has a very strong desire to get close with Stan’s friend, who’s been looking at him since he arrived. Harry can’t really remember his name, _Lewis_? He shakes his head; all he remembers is Stan introducing him as a childhood friend. Harry knows 2 things about this mysterious boy, one, he is definitely from his school –he’s pretty sure he’s the guy who his teammates bully at least a few days a week–, and, two, he is the most beautiful boy Harry has ever seen.

He has never paid attention to him before, mainly because he doesn’t like to get involved in the bullying his teammates do. But now, Harry can’t look away. The boy has the most beautiful blue eyes Harrys has ever seen, so, so bright, and the shape of blue that reminds you of the sky, the sea and the summer, all at the same time. His hair a light brown color, and his cheekbones are so perfect that Harry is sure the only explanation for his beauty is God himself.

Harry heads towards him, Lewis? Louis? God, he really wishes he could remember. But then, it hits him, _he can’t. _Suddenly, he remembers why he can’t go up to him and flirt with him, he remembers why he won’t be able to do that until next year, when his finally out of this town and free.

He turns around with one last look at the boy, blue eyes piercing his own, and goes home.

**»»–––** ** L ** **–––««**

Louis rolls onto his back with a groan. Really, he should have thought about the consequences last night when he decided to go to that party. He knew the football team was going to be there, but he got convinced by his friend Stan to go and he honestly couldn’t resist one of his parties, they were a blast. Besides, when the football team was drunk there was less chance that they would start saying nasty comments about him, so it was pretty much a win-win situation.

He gets up complaining about how tired he is, and how it should be illegal to wake up this early on a weekend, sue him, but it’s 6 am on a Saturday. Louis hops into the shower in an attempt to wake himself up, because he knows he can’t get into classes looking as if a truck rolled over him, he has to be able to give his 110% in order to succeed.

Once he’s clean and on his dance clothes, Louis heads downstairs to help his mother with breakfast.

“Good morning, darling” his mother, Jay, says as she walks over to him to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi, mum” Louis says, smiling softly.

“Are you ready for today? You got home late last night”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Louis groans, while making toasts for the twins, “Mrs. Teasdale is going to notice right away and she’ll give me hell for it, I just want to look presentable”.

His mom laughs and hands him the jam for him to start putting it on the toasts. He loves this little routine he has with his family on Saturday mornings, when he gets breakfast ready with his mom, putting the table with Lottie and then all of then eating together on the table, chatting about Fizzy’s new boyfriend, or the twins homework, about his ballet classes and how he can’t wait to apply to the National Ballet School. He’s so grateful he was raised in a loving family, who supports him through all of his decision, specially ballet.

“Hello looser” his sister Lottie says as she takes a seat beside him on the table.

“Hey, don’t call him that” Phoebe says, taking the other seat beside Louis and wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, you’re the looser, Lots” Daisy, the other twins says, inspecting the seating and frowning when there’s not seat available next to Louis. “Tomorrow is my turn to sit next to Lou”.

“Well, get up earlier then” Lottie says, sticking her tongue out towards her sister.

“Now, now” Jay says, entering the dining room with Fizzy behind her. “Don’t fight and be nice to each other”.

Daisy rolls her eyes, still throwing Lottie a murderous look. They start eating, casually talking about everything, telling jokes and Louis covering for Phoebe when she throws a piece of bread to Lottie.

Once they’re done Louis helps with the dishes and kisses all of his sisters goodbye. He won’t be home until the afternoon, since he’s planning on getting together with Zayn for lunch. He tries not to go out that much on the weekends, he really likes having good quality time with his family, but there’s just so much you can do when your best friend offers and afternoon together.

-

Louis arrives at the academy just in time for his class, he jogs to the room in order to put on his shoes before his teacher arrives. He suppresses a yawn at the same that Mrs. Teasdale is entering the classroom. Louis looks at himself in the mirror and tries to tame his hair a little bit; Louis can’t help but remember the way Harry Styles’ eyes lingered on him throughout the night and suppresses a shiver. Yes, he felt attracted to the popular captain, but who didn’t? The boy was gorgeous without even realizing and Louis had never heard him say single bad word about someone, which was a lot to say for someone who was on the football team.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when the teacher starts giving instructions to the class. There are only eight people in his level, and only three of them are boys, including himself, so Mrs. Teasdale tells them to start practicing a _double saut de basque_. Louis can feel the tension forming in his body and irradiating from his classmates’, it’s always a nerve wracking feeling to start practicing their doubles, not only because they are hard as fuck, but also because it means they’re heading towards the professional line. Hell, Louis is not even sure what he wants to do with his life and here he is, practicing _professional_ dance moves.

They spend two hours like that, intercalating different doubles but also a few easier turns and steps, trying not to strain any muscles.

Once class is dismissed, Louis goes towards the changing room to get onto some actual clothes, choosing a tight blue jean and a polo shirt, he makes sure to look nice, or at least presentable, because he knows he’ll be getting looks today, after all, he’s going out with Zayn.

He rushes to his car, getting inside quickly and drives to the restaurant he and Zayn agreed on meeting. He sits at a table by the window and pulls out his phone; he’s not really a social media guy –it’s not as if he had many people to talk to in the first place–, but he uses it once in a while to read about his school gossips. 

Louis’ face splits into a smile when he sees his best friend approaching their table, taking the seat right in front of him. He and Zayn met years ago, when they had both joined an arts program in Doncaster for the summer, Louis’ taking dance classes and Zayn painting, they try to keep in touch as much as they can, but since Zayn is taking a gap year before starting university they can’t see each other as much as they used to. Still, he still considers him his best friend, even if he’s been traveling around Europe for the past year.

“So, Zayn, how was Rome?” Louis asks, once they have ordered their food, remembering that’s the last place Zayn visited.

“Good, it was crazy, you know?” Zayn says, his eyes shining from excitement, “there’s so much to learn over there, like, anyone can learn something from that city, whether it’s art, like paintings and stuff, or dance, or history, even architecture stuff! Honestly mate, we should go one day together, you would love it”.

Louis smiles and agrees, he really would love to do what Zayn is doing right now, taking a gap year seems like such a good decision to make, but unfortunately that’s not an option for him, ballet is very demanding and there’s no way any company would hire him if he takes a whole year off training. Then there’s also the fact that he probably wouldn’t be able to afford it.

“So, how’s school?” Zayn asks when their plates have arrived; they ordered something light, as Louis has to follow a strict diet in order to stay in shape for dance, and Zayn worries a bit too much about his looks.

“It’s alright, those boys from the football team keep bothering me but at least there’s only this year left and then I’m done forever and can get the hell out of this town” Louis answers, a sad smile tugging on his lips.

“Hey, babe, you need me to do something about it?” Zayn asks as Louis frowns; when the dark haired boy was still in school he would stop the jocks from picking on Louis, even having to stop them from punching him sometimes, and as much as Louis had appreciated the help, he did not want to depend on anyone. Just… maybe now was not a good time to mention how the popular kids were mocking him now for not having his _boyfriend_ to protect him now. Louis shakes his head fiercely.

“Don’t worry, mate,” Louis tells him as he plasters a fake smile on his face, trying to look convincing. “I can handle them myself. Besides, now that Harry Styles is the captain, they haven’t been picking on me _that _much, apparently the lad’s a pacifist or some shit, and since he tends to be around them all the time, they don’t have that many opportunities to do anything to me”.

“Harry Styles is the captain, huh?” Zayn says, smiling again, Louis knows he’s trying to change the subject to avoid making him uncomfortable. “Aren’t you happy then, Lou? Remember the big crush you had on him when he first arrived from London a few years ago?”.

Louis did remember, of course he did; he used to spend entire classes staring at the back of Harry’s head, mesmerized by his curls, by his dimples, and how his eyes crinkled every time he laughed. Obviously, Harry Styles had never paid attention to him, no one did, and from the moment he joined the football team it became obvious to Louis that he was just another straight guy who had caught Louis’ eyes, one he would never be able to date.

“Kindly fuck off, Zayn” Louis says, not a hint of hate in his voice. He really appreciates his best friend. “As if a guy like Harry Styles had anything in common with a guy like me”.

“Well I’m not saying he likes you or anything, I’m just saying that now you get the chance to see him more, since he’s the popular guy now”.

Louis thinks about it, but he doesn’t really see much of Harry during school. Yes, they have a couple of classes together, and there’s also the football matches he rarely attends, but the curly lad has got an amazing talent to disappear from school the moment the bell rings. 

“So… Lou, tell me how the new steps are coming along,” Zayn asks, making Louis groan, and starts talking about the doubles he has been practicing and his plans for the future, which are, to be fair, none.

-

It’s about an hour later when they leave the restaurant, Louis’ tummy hurting from how much he laughed throughout the lunch. It takes a few minutes for Louis to realize there´s something wrong in his car. Something missing.

“Oh, for fucks sake” he says, as he looks behind the seats again with no luck, walking around the car to open the truck, which is, to no one’s surprise, empty. “Listen, Z, I forgot my changing bag in the academy… I know I said I was driving you to your house and I can still do it, but we would have to go and pick it up first?”

Zayn chuckles.

“You know I love you mate, but I honestly don’t feel like driving for 40 minutes just to get a lift to my house, I’ll just take the subway” Zayn smiles, letting him know that he’s not angry; Louis bites his bottom lip.

“Are you sure?” he asks, insecure because he really doesn’t want Zayn to think he’s ditching him.

“Positive”.

“Okay then, let’s meet up again, alright? Before you leave me again”. Zayn smiles and steps closer to hug him goodbye.

Once they pull apart Louis gets into his car and starts the engine, a long way ahead of him. He spends the forty-minute drive to his dance studio listening to an audio book of on the radio, he can’t count how many books he has already finished inside this car, but who can blame him when he has to make the same trip almost every day of the week.

He parks in the academy and walks towards the entrance, once he’s inside he says hi to the receptionist, who smiles at him from his phone. He has been going to this academy since he was five years old, so there’s no need for her to ask him who he is, he’s part of the family.

Louis walks inside the changing room and feels his muscles relax when he spots his bag in the corner, right where he left it this morning. He scrambles through it, making sure every belonging is still in there. When he is satisfied by the result he turns around, his hand quickly going to his chest when the music system starts playing, startling him.

He frowns as he scans the changing room in search for another bag. Who could be having a private session this late? Private sessions were usually in the morning if they were taking place during the weekends, or very late at night on the weekdays, but never on a Saturday afternoon; he would know, as he has been on this academy for longer than anyone else and has had pretty much every single schedule available.

His eyes locate a black bag in the corner farthest away from him. Curiosity taking over him, Louis walks to the bag, searching for a tag. It’s not like he’s doing something bad, he just wants to know who this person is, especially if they’re receiving special treatment.

His fingers finally find a tag, and he turns it around to see who the mystery person is.

_H.E.Styles_

“What the…?” Louis murmurs, his brain working at a hundred miles per second. Could it be…? After all, Styles was not a very common last name, and even if it were, how many of them lived in the same area as him? He was so lost in his train of thought he didn’t listen when the music stopped playing, nor the sound of the changing room’s door opening.

“What are you doing?” Louis turns around, dropping the bag as if it were on fire, and there in front of him he was. Dressed in dance clothes. Ballet clothes. And looking at him with a furious gaze.

Harry Styles.


	2. two

**»»–––** ** L ** **–––««**

_“What are you doing?” _ _Louis turns around, dropping the bag as if it were on fire, and there in front of him he was. Dressed in dance clothes. Ballet clothes. And looking at him with a furious gaze. _

_Harry Styles._

“I said what the fuck are you doing?” Harry spits, eyes full of fury and looking at Louis as if his worst nightmare has come true. Maybe it is a nightmare. “Do you not understand what I’m saying?”.

Louis comes out of his stupor and looks at Harry with apologetic eyes, looking for the correct words to say. If Harry’s eyes are anything to go by, Louis really needs to think of his next words carefully, the poor lad looks frightened, as if he’s been caught on the spot of something horrible. Louis almost feels sorry for him, he knows the consequences of being “the ballet boy” too well.

“Sorry, man,” Louis says, taking a step back and raising his hands as if surrendering, “I was just curious about who was having a private, people don’t really have privates on Saturday afternoon so… yeah… oh, and I had left my bag in here, so I came to get it, again, I’m sorry”. 

Harry stares at him for a few seconds, and Louis can almost see the wheels working in the kid’s brain. Suddenly Harry shakes his head and walks to him, stopping only when he’s a few inches away from Louis’ face, his chest raising rapidly, his breathing controlled. Louis had never realized how tall Harry Styles actually was, always looking at him from afar, but now, only inches away from each other, Louis had to look up to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t mention this to anyone, Tomlinson, if you do, I swear to God…,” Harry trails off, his voice so low it could almost be a growl. He pushes Louis aside, grabs his bag and leaves the room, closing the door with a slam.

**»»–––** ** H ** **–––««**

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

That’s the only thing Harry can think as he walks over to his car. How could he be so careless? So stupid? Fuck. This academy was supposed to be his safe place, his sanctuary, and now it turns out there was always someone there that could’ve seen him, that could use that information against him.

Is not like he was ashamed of dancing, he loved it, and back when they didn’t live in this small town everyone knew about it. But here, in Doncaster, everyone was so bloody conservative there was absolutely no way he would be able to continue his normal life without getting bullied. Like that kid, Louis Tomlinson. Harry remembers him from of his classes, they don’t share that many, but it’s impossible not to notice him when he is the kid his team has been mocking all year long. Why do they bully him? Because he’s gay and he dances ballet. Fuck. Then there’s also the fact that he couldn’t not notice him when he walks around school and parties with those _blueblueblue _eyes. 

To be completely honest, Harry doesn’t even know if that kid, Louis, is actually gay, he’s never seen him with anyone, but just the fact that he’s a bit sassier and more flamboyant than the other boys in Doncaster makes him a target for bullying. He gets bullied just from people _thinking_ that he is gay. It only took one rumor to get Louis to that point. What would it take for Harry? Would they believe it? If Louis tells everyone about what just happened, could Harry lie? They’d believe him right away, being the team’s captain, never involved in any rumor. It would be easy… Would they bully Louis more for thinking he’s a liar?

_No_. Harry doesn’t like to think about the last possibility, because it won’t matter if the truth ruins his life in what’s left of the school year, he wouldn’t allow Louis get bullied more just because of his own actions. He will have to confront the truth eventually, even if he doesn’t want to. He’ll just have to find a way to convince the blue-eyed boy not to tell anyone.

Harry gets inside his car and drives as fast as he can to his house, his mind only concentrating on how he’s going to make this guy keep his mouth shut and not snitch him. Once he’s outside his house, he takes a couple of minutes to relax, doing breathing exercises to try and stop his mind from going to places he really doesn’t want to think about right now, like what’s going to happen Monday at school. Harry doesn’t even notice when tears start streaming down his cheeks, too focused on trying to control the lump that’s forming in his throat preventing him from breathing. His mind is a mess, a torrent of possibilities playing in his mind.

Ten years could’ve passed by the time he’s able to leave his car. He gets inside his house and walks to the kitchen, where his mother is waiting for him, her warm smile welcoming him, which immediately drops at the sight of Harry’s face.

Anne walks up to him and wraps her arms around his shoulders, tangling her fingers on Harry’s curls. He feels tears pickling at the back of his eyes and blinks several times to bat them away. He will not keep crying over this. He will not. He’s proud of the way he is, he’s proud of himself, even if he’s too afraid to admit it in front of his classmates. He’s proud of his dancing, on how much effort he puts. He will not keep crying.

“What happened, baby?” his mother says, her voice soft and she gently pulls away from the embrace.

Harry explains her everything, from the start of his class to the moment where his eyes met Louis’ on the changing room. He now realizes his reaction might have been a bit exaggerated, but he couldn’t help it. He had been scared, terrified even, of the consequences of someone finding out about his most precious secret, of a classmate finding out, of everyone’s reactions when they inevitably find out.

“It’s going to be fine, Harry,” his mom says once the boy is finished with his story. His mother gently cleans the tears away from his face and kisses his forehead. “I’m sure if you ask the boy, Louis, he would not say anything, but you’ve got to ask him nicely, baby”.

“I know mum, I’m sorry for how I acted, it’s just… I got scared,” Harry confesses in a whisper, tears prickling in his eyes, fighting for a way out.

“It’s not me who you should be apologizing to, my boy” Anne looks at him with a mixture of sadness and anger, and Harry totally understands why, she doesn’t like seeing him hurt, but also, she knows she raised him to react in a better way.

“I’ll apologize Monday morning, I promise, mom”. And Harry really intends to keep that promise, not only for his mom, but because he knows Louis didn’t deserve to get talked to in the way Harry did. Harry doesn’t even know Louis; aside from him thinking the smaller boy was cute at last night’s party he’d never payed much attention to him, but he couldn’t help feeling a twist in his chest at the thought of the blue-eyed boy. He danced. He knew what it was like when you had to spend hours practicing the same step over and over again, he knew the rush of adrenaline when you were getting off stage. He knew about Harry.

-

The rest of the weekend goes by peacefully. He calls his sister, Gemma, who is studying in London, to catch up and talk about everything and nothing, really. They have a very beautiful relationship and Harry loves her dearly, even when they fight, and she acts like the overly protecting sister she is. He later plays scrabble with his mom and his stepfather. He can’t believe he’ll be going to university next year; it still seems so far away from now, especially with the newly acquired problem with Louis, but, no. He stops himself from dwelling on it, that’s Monday’s problem.

He revises and does homework, because even though he may have the stereotypical image of a jock, he actually has to get good grades to be the captain of the team and also, he cares about school, so.

Harry really tries to distract himself during the day, but he can’t help it when he’s all alone in his room at night, his mind flying to the different possibilities about how Monday could go. It goes from a scenery where he ends up crying alone in his car, to one where his mates stand by him, and also there’s the best possibility where he actually convinces Louis to be quiet about it and nobody finding out about a thing.

He rolls out of bed on Monday morning with a knot on his stomach, he walks lazily to the bathroom, feeling so sick he actually has to kneel inn front of the toilet to throw up. He looks at himself worriedly in the mirror, noticing the dark marks under his eyes.

The little time he has every morning to get ready passes by quickly, he eats scrambled eggs in the kitchen with his parents and runs upstairs to brush his teeth, get his backpack ready for the day and organize his sports bag as well, since today is a specially busy day, due to having both training for the football team and ballet at the academy. Once all of his bags are ready, and after double checking he’s not missing anything, Harry heads downstairs again, saying goodbye to both his mom and stepdad, and makes his way to his car to drive himself to school. 

-

The moment Harry arrives in his school he feels sick again. He can visually imagine himself walking these halls and people laughing at him. Taking a few deep breaths he encourages himself to leave the car, rapidly looking down when he spots one of his teammates at one of the main hall’s corner; he allows his muscle memory to guide him to his locker, where he takes the books required for his first two periods and looks at the pictures attached to the locker’s door. One is with him and the football team last year, taken the first day of practice; the second one is just him and Liam, both of them making a funny face to the camera; and lastly one of him and Niall, probably drunk in a party somebody threw during the summer. He smiles and relaxes himself a bit, trying to list in his head the good things he should be grateful for and not worry about the stuff that hasn’t happened yet.

_Ballet_

_Family_

_Football_

_Friends_

He repeats these four words at least five times before closing his locker and making his way to his first class.

His first class is History, and he gets there with barely a few minutes to spare. Harry takes his usual seat beside Niall, fist bumping him as their typical way of greeting each other. They make small talk about a football match that happened on Sunday, quickly changing it when Harry mentions the homework that apparently Niall had no idea about. Harry chuckles and hands him his notebook so the blond boy can copy some of his answers.

Out of nowhere Harry feels an arm wrapping around his neck from behind him, bringing him down to the floor along with the body that’s attached to him.

“What the fuck?” Harry asks, furiously wriggling to get out of the person’s embrace. He hates being touched without a warning, especially by people he’s only acquainted with.

Harry turns around on the ground and sees Matthew, a teammate, who he’s not very fond of, smiling innocently at him. If only there were something innocent about the kid. He is one of the ones that use his position on the team to bully people. Harry frowns at him and stands up, sitting again on his chair.

“Ow, c’mon, Styles, it was just a joke,” Matthew says, holding up his hands in surrender, his eyes mischievous.

“Don’t do it again, you twat, you could have hurt me” Harry replies, turning around towards the whiteboard, opening his notebook as he starts scribbling down today’s date.

“Stop being so gay Styles and stop whining, it was a joke”.

Harry freezes, thus being the first time the word ‘gay’ being used as an insult directed at him. He doesn’t want to give Matthew the satisfaction of knowing he got into Harry’s nerve, but he also doesn’t want to deny anything, feeling it’d be like denying himself, the urge to just be _proud_ burning inside him. He can almost picture it, himself standing tall in front of Matthew, saying “yes, I’m gay, and so what?”, but his usual fears keep him glued on his chair. Harry looks at Matthew and throws him a lighthearted smile, hoping it’s enough to send him away; apparently it works, because Matthew gives him a cheeky grin and drops the subject.

"Just ignore him, Hazza," Niall says, rolling his eyes. "He's just an idiot". 

"I know," he answers, bumping his shoulder with Niall’s, giving him a grateful smile. 

"As if being gay were such a bad thing. I mean, you’d still have more luck getting laid than he has on his lifetime,” Harry lets out small laugh but doesn’t comment on it, if only it were so easy for him to be with someone. To just _be._ “We’re still getting lunch together, right= Niall asks him, and Harry can only nod, a happy smile spreading across his face. 

-

It’s not until his third period, his free period, when Harry finally manages to go and look for Louis around the school. He decides to look in places where it would be easy to hide, and, voilà, ten minutes later he finds him sitting on a corner of the library, hiding in between two big shelves, a book on his hands. Harry walks over and sits beside him, putting enough space between them so it isn’t awkward, or it doesn’t look as if Harry is crowding him.

Harry clears his throat uncomfortably, adjusting his legs so he can support his chin on his knees.

“Hi,” he says, trying to get the boy’s attention. “Hello,” Louis says, tearing his eyes away from the book to look at Harry.

“So, I wanted to apologize for the way I acted yesterday,” Harry starts, managing to keep his voice from shaking, “I really overreacted, I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I shouldn’t have threatened you and I’m very embarrassed for my behavior, Louis, I’m truly, terribly sorry”.

“Okay, thank you for your apology,” Louis says, his eyes still scanning Harry’s face, but his own face is blank from emotion. A few minutes go by, both staring into the other’s eyes. Harry starts to get uncomfortable when the silence drags on for too long, so he clears his throat again, making Louis shake his head. “So, is that it?” Louis asks.

“I guess…” Harry mumbles, not really knowing how to bring up the fact that he wants this thing quiet and almost as a secret between them. “Have you told anyone?” he tries to casually bring up the subject, but it might have not been as smooth as he thought, judging by the way Louis furrows his eyebrows.

“Aw, don’t worry, dear captain,” Louis mocks, “I haven’t told anyone”.

“Okay, thank you. Will you tell anyone?” Harry asks, more nervous now, he decides the best thing is for him to be straight forward about it.

“Do you want me to tell someone?”

“NO,” Harry franticly says, his eyes going wide and his heart racing just by thought of someone else finding out. “Please don’t tell anyone,” he pleads, “it’s just… um, I just don’t want people to think stuff, and like, misinterpret or something, I just want this to be kept between us if you’re ok with it? Nobody outside my family knows, of course you do now, but…”

“Why don’t you want to tell anyone?” Louis asks curiously, and Harry wonders if he should tell him about his fears, maybe Louis understands him more than anyone else. But then, he has had this secret for two years and it’s hard to trust a stranger, and sadly, Louis is a stranger.

“I just… I’ve seen what people from this school are capable of when someone is a tiny bit different from the rest,” he decides to say, looking at Louis apologetically, they both know he’s talking about him. Harry really tries to keep his teammates in line when it comes to picking on others, but he knows he can’t really control what they do outside of school or when he’s not with them to hold them back. “I guess I just don’t want people to assume that I’m not straight or something just because I do ballet and I really want to finish my last year in peace”.

“So just because you do ballet people would assume that you’re gay?” Louis asks, voice confused, and eyebrows furrowed. He puts his book on the floor next to him and looks at Harry expectantly.

“I mean… yeah?” Harry says, surprised by how easy the conversation is going. “You’re gay and you do ballet so it would make sense for people to relate me to you and think that because you are, I would be and-”.

“EXCUSE ME?” Louis whisper-shouts, standing up and looking down at Harry, his eyes full of anger. “I wasn’t the one fucking me with his eyes the other night at the party…, oh… yeah, that was you, actually. And don’t fucking assume my sexuality just because of a sport I enjoy doing! Fuck. I can’t believe I thought you were better than your teammates…” he trails off. Louis runs a hand through his hair, almost pulling at it, his hands shaking with anger, and Harry feels tears prickling in his eyes. Louis looks back at him, eyes sharp enough to break Harry’s calm façade. “You’re actually worse than them. You don’t a fucking thing about my life, Styles, so don’t assume stuff when don’t know shit about me”.

“Louis, I’m sorry,” Harry starts again, fear rising. He never wanted this conversation to go this way. He didn’t want to assume Louis’ sexuality, like, _fuck_, he knew it wasn’t certain that he was gay, but he just wanted to feel like he wasn’t alone on this closeted lifestyle in high school. Harry honestly thought they could’ve been friends and go through this hell together, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen, because he had to go and assumed stuff when he didn’t have a right to. They weren’t even friends and Harry had to go and ruin any chance they had to ever be. “I didn’t want to offend you I-”.

“Listen, Styles,” Louis cuts him off, “just stay the fuck out of my way and I’ll stay away from yours”. He sighs, running his hand through his hair once more, not making eye contact with Harry while doing so. Finally, Louis reaches for his backpack, puts the book he was reading inside of it, and stands up, finally turning to face Harry once again, locking his blue eyes with Harry’s green ones. “I just thought you were different”.

And just like that, he walks away.

Harry looks after him, even after he sees Louis’ shadow disappearing around the corner of the bookshelf. Only then he allows himself to curl into his legs, burying his face on them, and finally, he allows himself to cry.

-

Later that day, after Harry’s football practice, he runs to the locker room to get out of his dirty clothes. He has rehearsals at the academy in less than two hours. In order to get there, he needs at least forty minutes on his car and then change clothes, so he’s literally running against time. He puts on a random radio station and make his way towards the academy.

When he pulls the door of the academy open, he immediately waves at the secretary, Silvia, as a greeting.

“Good afternoon,” the woman at the desk tells him, smiling softly at him. He smiles back at her and starts making his way to the changing room when she speaks again. “Harry?”

“Yeah?” he asks, walking backwards until he has her on eyesight again.

“Are you nervous?” Silvia asks him, looking at him with worried eyes.

“Nervous?” Harry questions, not really understanding the situation. He’s supposed to have his normal private today, nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe someone else was going to be present during his lesson…?

“Yeah,” she smiled softly at him, taking out her glasses and putting them on top of the desk. “You know, darling, about the advanced class you got put in?”

“I–, what?”

“Oh, I knew she’d forget to tell you!” she shakes her head disapprovingly as she reaches inside of a drawer, instantly taking out a paper and showing it to Harry. “There’s a new class of advanced students, it’s a special class and only some selected students got chosen,” Silvia explains, as she circles with a red pen the new class added to the academy’s schedule. “The idea of the class is that you can exploit your talents without being hold back but others, instead, the idea is that all of you can benefit from this and learn from others, since all of you have the talent to become professional dancers if you choose so”.

Harry smiles disbelievingly at her, his smile so wide it hurts his cheeks. This is all he ever wanted; to be a professional ballet dancer had been his dream ever since he went to his first class when he was eight years old. Harry knew he started ballet later than it was recommended, especially being a boy, but that only made him work harder to be the best, to prove all of the other boys at his old academy that he was enough.

“Thank you,” Harry says, not really knowing if he’s saying it to Silvia or to the gods above who gave him this chance.

“You’re welcome, darling,” Silvia tells him, handing the paper to him. “You keep that, so you know when the classes are. The first one starts in half an hour, so better hurry up”.

He gives her one last smile before hurrying to the changing room; without really looking at anyone else who could be in there, Harry rapidly changes clothes and gets inside the classroom to start warming up. He smiles when he realizes he’s the first one on the room, so he positions himself in the center and does some dynamic stretches, moving on then gets himself up to the bar to practice some positions.

After a while the room starts to fill –as much as an advanced ballet class can be–, and Harry takes the time to count; there’s ten people in the class, mostly girls, as per usual in ballet, and only three boys, himself included. Harry scans the room to see if he recognizes some of the faces, freezing when his eyes collide the pair of blue ones that just entered the room. Louis frowns but doesn’t walk over, instead, he keeps talking to a petite brunette who entered just behind him.

They don’t say a word at each other throughout the course of the class, and to be quite honest, Harry feels really bad about it. He wants to apologize, again. He was an idiot, again.

Harry admitted he was intrigued by the shorter guy; Louis had an air about him that made you be aware of him at all times, and the way he talked back at Harry when they were at the library made him think about how the color his eyes changed depending on his surrounding, or maybe his mood. He remembers when he saw him at the party, Louis’ eyes so bright and blue Harry couldn’t stop looking. Today they were very dark, resembling a storm that happened quietly in the middle of the night, defying but controlled. Now, though, now they were as bright as the night sky, the studio lights reflecting on them as stars when he dances. Harry wishes he’d been kinder, nicer to him, and most of all, he wishes he hadn’t assumed his sexuality and insulted him.

It was okay, though, it wasn’t as if there had been a possibility of something happening between them, even if Louis had happened to be gay. Yes, the boy was cute, and he looked like an angel while he dances –now that Harry has seen it first handed for the last hour, he can objectively say that Louis, in fact, dances like an angel–, but life wasn’t ideal right now, he was closeted on a high school full of pricks, where someone like him, “popular, captain of the football team”, couldn’t be with someone less than that, least of all with another guy.

When class is over, Harry does a few stretches to keep his muscles from being sore in the morning. He learned years ago that if he just stopped dancing and walked away as if nothing had happened his muscles contracted from the cold and he was at a higher risk of getting injured, so he always spent a good fifteen minutes after every class taking care of his muscles, just doing a short cool down to prevent any injuries.

Once he’s done, Harry goes to the changing room, walking towards the shower section to wash the sweat from his body. _Bloody hell_, he thinks as he spots Louis getting out of one of the showers in nothing but a towel, apparently now that Louis knows his secret the universe won’t stop to put them in the same place; and whilst Harry can feel his cheeks blushing, he quickly turns away and gets inside the nearest shower. It only takes him a couple of minutes to wash his hair –which is getting a bit too long; he might need to cut it soon–, and shortly later, he’s out of the shower and putting on some comfortable joggers, matching his casual outfit with a plain white t-shirt.

By the time he’s ready to go there’s only on girl left on the changing room. Harry mutters a goodbye and, giving one last look around the room to make sure he isn’t leaving anything behind, he exits. Harry is just walking towards the entry hall when he sees it, or rather, hears it.

“Hi, love,” Louis’ voice comes through Harry’s ears, and he can hear the love on his tone. He looks towards the sound of their voices and spots them just as Louis is pressing a kiss to a girl’s cheek, an arm wrapping around her waist. “Ready to go, Lottie?”.

The girl’s eyes look up to Louis, a gaze that is so full of love that even Harry, who has never been in love, can tell how much adoration the blond girl has for Louis. He feels as if he’s intruding, as if he’s witnessing a private moment when he has no right to, so he waits hidden in the corridor until they’re out of the academy. Only then Harry walks quickly to his car, finally putting an end to a mentally exhausting day. 

Now, though, as he remembers the exchange he just witnessed, now he knows why Louis was so mad when Harry assumed he was gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm planning on updating once or twice a week so make sure to bookmark the story to be notified when I update! 
> 
> You can follow me on twitter (@00svicky)  
You can follow me on tumblr (vthelarrie)
> 
> kudos and comments are always welcome! That's my way of knowing if you like the story so far c:


	3. three

**»»–––** ** H ** **–––««**

Ever since his and Louis Tomlinson’s life collided there is no escaping from the blue-eyed boy.

It’s been about two weeks since his life changed, since Louis found out about Harry’s secret and they started having classes together in the academy. Harry is exaggerating quite a bit, though. He wishes his life had changed since someone else besides his family learned about his secret, but Louis has kept true to his word and hasn’t spoken anything about his newly found knowledge from Harry’s life to anyone. In fact, he hasn’t spoken to Harry at all in the past two weeks; not even during their ballet classes that they share twice a week. It’s almost as if nothing had happened between them at all.

The thing is, Harry should be happy that nothing changed, right? He knows he should be happy, relieved, even, that Louis has kept quiet about ballet, but he can’t help the twist of sadness that tugs at his heart every time he sees the dancer around their school. Harry wishes there was a spark of recognition when his own eyes lock with the blue ones that haunt his dreams, but all he gets are frowns and startled looks.

That’s something else Harry has noticed on Louis during the past two weeks, he tends to get startled very easily, either when a motorcycle’s engine started when they were at one of their shared classes, or when one of his teammates stands too close to him. That’s the thing Harry hates the most. He hates seeing Louis flinching away when one of his mates from the football team talk to him, he hates seeing the scared look on those blue eyes when they make a sudden movement and he happens to be nearby. Harry hates thinking that Louis could ever feel that way towards him.

Harry gets pulled out of his thoughts when there’s a loud Irish voice screaming in his ear.

“Harold!” Niall yells, stretching his hand to grab a couple of Harry’s remaining chips. “’ve been talking to you for at least five minutes, what the hell’s going around your mind?”

“Nothing,” Harry quickly says, as his eyes leave Louis’ silhouette which just disappeared through the cafeteria’s doors; Harry didn’t even notice Niall had been talking to him. “Sorry, ’m tired, it’s all” he tells Niall, as he puts enough distance between his tray and Niall’s so he can stop taking chips from him.

Niall looks at him with narrowed eyes. “If you say so, Harry…,” he says, clearly not trying to push Harry, but wanting to know anyway.

“I say so,” Harry says lightly, giving his friend a small smile, hoping it’s enough for Niall to drop the subject. Harry really isn’t keen on talking about how he can’t sleep properly at nights because he can’t stop fantasizing a pair of blue eyes. Especially when those eyes belong to someone who goes to their school. To a male someone.

Sometimes Harry wishes he were brave enough to tell people about him, to at least be able to Niall and Liam about himself, but all the times he’s been about to do it during the last two years he has lived on Doncaster something brings him back to reality, either one of his teammates making homophobic comments, either his own fear of being different, of being treated differently by his best friends.

The bell ringing it’s back finally brings him back to reality. Harry stands up with Niall by his side; they make their way across the cafeteria, leaving their food trays on an aisle. They walk silently through the halls, people opening the way for them to walk. It’s always so strange for Harry to be treated almost as if he were a celebrity, of course Niall just laughs at him for it and relishes on perks of being best friends with the team’s captain. It takes them less than five minutes to get their next class.

“Ugh…,” Nialls complains when they finally sit at the end of the classroom. “Harry be a darling and wake me up when this is over,” the blond says, as he puts both of his hands on the table, making enough space in between them for his face to fit. He lays down and closes his eyes making Harry laugh at his best friend’s laziness.

The class goes by normally after that, Harry only has to nudge at Niall’s ribs twice when he snores too loudly, which is a first, since he usually has to spend the majority of their shared classes doing it.

He gets distracted from the class when he feels his phone vibrating on his pocket indicating he just received a new text. He discreetly takes it out, trying to go unnoticed by the teacher and checks his messaging app. It’s from Liam.

_mate we’re free !!!!_

Harry frowns at the message; he looks around the room to make sure the teacher isn’t looking at his direction and types:

**??**

He only has to wait a couple of seconds for an answer.

_Haven’t you heard???_

_Coach cancelled today’s practice_

Smiling he goes to check the football team’s group chat and he sees everyone confirming the information. Harry puts his phone back in his pocket and allows his body to relax back on the chair; he’s tired, yesterday he had both football practice and ballet rehearsals, which made his muscles extremely sore and always made him be extremely cautious about not over-training. Also, he might feel nerdy for admitting it, but he was super glad he’d finally be able to catch up on his homework; usually his teachers spared him when he delivered his essays after their due date because he was the team’s captain, but they didn’t know he had ballet on top that, and he could only use so many excuses.

Once all his classes were over –and after waking up a very grumpy Niall–, Harry made his way to the school library. He had contemplated going back to his house and work on his homework there, but he knew that as soon as he entered his room, he’d fall asleep either on his bed or desk.

The library was usually quiet all the time, barely any students spent their time in there, most of them desperate to go home as soon as their classes were over. Harry liked that quiet. It took him a while to concentrate on school stuff, usually too tired to focus his eyes on the paper, so being surrounded only by books helped him pay more attention to what was in front of him, since it wasn’t too interesting to stare at the books spines. 

Harry walks through the library in search of a concealed table to work on. He’d like to stay out of other people’s eyes, in order to avoid getting distracted chatting with people. His eyes scan quickly through the corridors, and he finally spots an empty table by the farthest window, right in between to rails of bookshelves. Harry’s turning around the bookshelves’ corner when he feels a body colliding with his.

“Oops,” the person says, as Harry turns meet their eyes. He feels himself smiling when he meets his gaze with none other than Louis Tomlinson.

“Hi,” Harry breathes out. He sees the exact moment when Louis recognizes him, his expression instantly shutting down, and _God_, Harry hates to be the cause of that. “Sorry,” he rushes out. “I shouldn’t have been walking that fast”.

“Don’t worry ’bout it,” Louis says. “I should’ve been looking,” he continues, shrugging. Harry continues to stare at Louis as the latter steps away from him and looks back at the bookshelves behind him.

Harry shifts his weight from one foot to the other. He walks over to the table he had eyed and puts his backpack on top of it. He’s still looking at Louis, mesmerized by how he runs his fingers over the spines of the book, as if he’s caressing them instead of actually paying attention to what’s written on them.

“Shouldn’t you be at one of your football practices?” Louis decides to break the silence, eyes curious as he looks back at him. “After all, we wouldn’t want our captain to fall out of his game, right?” he continues, turning to face the shelve, eyes narrowing as he continues to search through the titles on display. Harry’s not sure if he’s being sarcastic or bantering with him, but he decides to answer anyway.

“Cancelled,” is all Harry says, hoping it’s a good enough explanation. Louis hums without looking at him, and Harry takes that as a sufficient sign to continue. “Do you need help?” he asks, as Louis’ still eyeing the shelves with a concentrated look on his face.

“Really?” Louis turns to look at him again, and Harry thinks he looks annoyed. “Amazing-Harry Styles is offering me his help? What have I ever done to deserve this?”.

Harry frowns. “Hey, I’m sorry, I just thought you might need help looking for whatever book it is you’re looking, I–, clearly I’m annoying you, I’m sorry”. Harry picks his backpack from the table, eyes glued to the floor in an attempt to hide the flush covering his cheeks. He plays with the straps for a few seconds before speaking again. “Sorry I–, yeah, huh, bye”.

Harry’s just started to turn around when Louis’ voice stops him.

“No, wait! I’m sorry I–,” Louis runs a hand through his hair, desperately looking at Harry as if he’s asking him to read his mind. “I just–, I’m not used to being treated nicely by a member of the football team, least of all by someone as–. Anyways, I’m sorry, I–, yes, I’d love help”.

“Someone as…” Harry trails off, curious as to what Louis had wanted to say with that sentence. Someone as annoying? Someone as mean? Someone as nice? Harry wasn’t sure why, but he hoped for the latter, he didn’t like to think about being seen as a mean person by Louis. He wanted to get to know him, or at least he wanted for them to be civil with each other.

A pink color covers Louis’ cheek. “Nothing,” he clears his throat. “So, uhm, were you really offering help or were you just trying to be nice?”

_Both_, Harry thinks. He puts his backpack on the table once again and walks to stand next to Louis. “I was really offering,” he assures him, giving him a close-mouthed smile.

“Well, in that case, I take it,” Louis smiles back at him, crinkles by his eyes.

Harry smiles back at him and leans to look at a paper Louis just took out of his pocket, where there’s a name of a book and its author written in messy handwriting.

“Let’s get to work then,” Harry says once he has the information memorized.

They start looking through the shelves, and Harry thinks it’s funny how they tacitly agreed that Harry was looking through the upper shelves and Louis through the ones close to the ground.

Harry can’t help but smile when he hears Louis mumbling to himself the names of the books as he searches for the one he needs. It’s almost as if he’d forgotten Harry is there with him, too lost at his task in hand to notice that Harry is starting at him.

The captain shakes his head, scolding himself. He shouldn’t _care_ about Louis’ soft voice as he talks to himself. He’s just another pretty boy with a pretty voice Harry can’t have. And there are so many reasons why Harry can’t have him; his own fear being the first one.

“Any luck?” Harry asks, startling Louis, who looks up to him as if he’d been caught doing something bad. A flush covers Louis’ face, and he quickly looks down and shakes his head, so his fringe shields him from Harry’s gaze.

“Huh,” Louis says, still looking down. “Not really… What about you?”

“Nope,” Harry answers him. He goes back to stare at the titles in front of him, and suddenly there’s something that catches his attention at the back of the shelve. “Wait…” he trails off, hands already on his way to move the books displayed at the front. “Haha!” He exclaims when he spots the book they’d been searching for. “Someone must have hidden it so they could go back to it again”.

“Oh, yeah,” Louis stands up and grabs the book Harry’s handing him. “I do that sometimes as well,” he tells him, looking up at Harry. “You know, when you don’t have the energy to continue doing your homework but you haven’t finished your paper so you hide the book so no one else can grab it and you can go back to it the next day,” Louis rambles, and Harry feels as if he could listen to him talking all day and he’d never get tired of the scrappiness of his voice, or the way it becomes a bit more high pitched when he gets excited.

It’s only then Harry realizes that Louis’ starting at him frowning, probably waiting for an answer. He clears his throat.

“I-, uhm,” he stares at Louis eyes and he hates himself sometimes. “Yeah, I don’t spend that much time at the library, so I don’t know”.

“Oh,” Louis lets out, and Harry has the urge to explain himself.

“Yeah, it’s just that I tend to do my homework at my house,” he quickly explains. For some reason he doesn’t want Louis to think he doesn’t care about his school responsibilities, when it’s obvious that the blue-eyed boy cares a lot about his.

“I could never concentrate at my house,” Louis tells him, scrunching his nose. Harry smiles because he can’t concentrate in his house either, he always ends up falling asleep or getting distracted talking with his mum. He’s about to tell Louis that when they get interrupted by a phone ringing.

Harry goes to search for his phone inside his backpack when he realizes Louis is doing the same. Louis takes out his phone, the one ringing, and waves it in Harry’s direction as he holds one finger up, silently asking for Harry to give him a minute as he throws him an apologetic smile. They’re still close enough that Harry can see the name displayed on the phone –Lottie– and the heart emoji next to it. Harry frowns.

“Hey, babes,” Louis says, smiling privately to his phone. “Yeah, I remember… I told you not to worry about, I have it covered… yes,” Louis rolls his eyes fondly. “Okay, yeah… love you too. Bye”.

Harry stands awkwardly throughout the small conversation, slowly taking out of his backpack the books and notes he’ll need to start doing his schoolwork. He really does try not to eavesdrop Louis’ conversation, but it’s inevitable when they’re still standing less than two feet apart and when the shorter boy’s voice softens as he answers to the person at the other end of the line. Once Louis hangs up, he turns to face him again.

“Huh,” Louis says. “I have to go”.

“Oh,” Harry reacts, feeling the disappointment pool in his stomach. He really wants a chance to get to know Louis better, even if it is only as a friend. “It’s okay,” he assures him, as he sees Louis looking torn. “I was going to start studying anyways,” he gestures at the items he put on top of the table.

“Right, yeah,” Louis nods at him, and then looks back at the book in his hand, the one Harry found. “Thanks for helping me, and, huh… I’ll–,” he clears his throat and blushes, Harry smiles when he notices his pink cheeks. “I’ll see you around”.

“See ya,” Harry rushes to say, just in time for Louis to give him one last smile before he disappears from Harry’s sight.

Harry gets to work after that. He spends almost four hours working on the school library before his eyes start to feel heavy. It’s the first time he’s able to concentrate on his homework for so long, and he can’t help but appreciate this rest day from practice and rehearsals. He gets to his house in no time after leaving school, he says hello to his mom and his stepdad and jokes with them during dinner. Then he throws himself into his bed, too tired to take a shower and falls asleep, dreams full of the color blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! let me know what you think of this so far :) 
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated and they make me really happy.
> 
> if you like the story, please reblog the tumblr post [here](https://vthelarrie.tumblr.com/post/630594426885079040/dangerous-love-by-vthelarrie-pairing-harry)  
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my twitter is 00svicky


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for this chapter: homophobic language. 
> 
> It's only one word so you can skip it without missing anything

Louis runs back to his car after leaving the school library. He’s really proud of his cardio abilities, but there’s only so much he can do when he, –quite literally–, has to run for his life if he wants to be safe from his own sister. He arrives to his car panting, a hand coming to his chest to try to calm his heart.

“I can’t believe you, Louis Tomlinson,” his sister Lottie starts saying as soon as she sees him approaching. “You told me you were only going to grab a book and that was it. _It’ll only be a sec, Lots_,” she tries to imitate him. Louis frowns.

“I do not sound like that,” Louis tells her, walking to the back of the car to put his and Lottie’s backpacks in the back seat. Louis can literally _hear_ her rolling her eyes; he smiles.

“Yes, you do,” she crosses her arms and stares at him, narrowing her eyes. “What took you so long?”

Louis avoids her gaze and shrugs. “I couldn’t find the book I needed,” he explains, walking around her in order to get in the driver’s seat.

He hears Lottie gasping. “Louis Tomlinson is that a blush I see?” and _no_. Louis is not having this conversation.

“Why do you keep saying my full name?” he asks her, throwing her a bewildered look.

“Yeah, try to change the subject,” Lottie says as she rolls her eyes. She walks around the car and gets on the passenger seat. Louis sighs and looks at the sky, arming himself with patience for what’s to come. He gets inside the car and starts the engine; Lottie puts her seatbelt on and turns to face him again. “What were you doing?” she asks him, squinting her eyes.

“I already told you,” Louis answers, checking the mirrors as he drives in reverse to get out of the school’s parking lot. “I needed to find a book for my History paper due next week, so I went to the library and I couldn’t find it. Then Harry Styles appeared and offered to help me, so I–”.

“Wait,” she interrupts him, and Louis knows he made a grave mistake by mentioning the other boy. “Harry Styles helped you? As in, _the _Harry Styles? School captain Harry Styles?”.

“Yes, Lottie, how many Harry Styles do you know?” he rolls his eyes, already over the conversation; if only it were that easy with his sister.

“Well, you tell me you talked to _Harry Styles_ and you expect me to be cool about it?” Lottie says, pulling out her phone and typing out the address they’re heading to. “You now that every girl in my grade is in love with him?” she continues, not looking at Louis.

And of course Louis knows that, he knows perfectly well how many people have fallen for Harry Styles. He knows because he is one of them.

-

Louis isn’t new to his crush on Harry Styles; he always laughed it off with Zayn as something he experienced when he was a freshman in high school and then he had outgrown it, but the reality is that he never did.

He barely knew anything about the captain, but he couldn’t help noticing the small acts of kindness he did for others; it was the first thing Louis noticed about him.

It was the first day of his freshman year, and everyone in his school kept talking about the new boy in town. All the girls gossiping about how cute and handsome he was, all the boys saying how he’d be an amazing addition to the school’s football team. Louis never put much attention to the school’s rumors; he knew first handed how damaging and cruel they could be but hearing only good things about the new boy had caught his attention. When he first saw Harry he’d been walking through an almost deserted corridor, on his way to another class; Louis had been there when the jocks of the football team pushed a freshman girl to the ground and left without glancing back at her, he’d been there when Harry, who was walking behind the team, kneeled by her side and helped her to gather all her papers scattered across the floor. He never accepted any apologies from the girl, he just shook it off with a smile, walked her to her next class –which was the same as Louis’–, and left. Louis had been curious about the new boy ever since, admiring him from afar, looking at the small things he does for others every day with a smile on his face.

Things are different now, though. There are things no one at school knows about Harry Styles. _Except you, _says a voice inside his head, and Louis’ thoughts run deeper.

He understands why Harry is hiding his passion for ballet from the entire school. He’s at the top of the social pyramid, he’s school captain and he can have literally any person he wanted at his feet. He has a lot to lose. Louis wishes things were different for Harry, and for himself as well. He might not know Harry personally, but he feels a strange connection with him, and not only because he’s been crushing on him since they were fourteen, but because he saw the frightened look on Harry’s face when they met for the first time at the academy’s changing room. It was a look full of fear, apprehension and shame. It was the same look Louis wore to school almost every day, the one he had when the football team picked on him.

But then, Louis thinks back at the minutes they just shared at the library. He thinks about the way Harry’s lips curved into the tinniest smile when he was concentrating on looking through the shelves, at how he immediately offered to help Louis with his search, and how he seemed almost disappointed when Louis told him he had to leave.

Harry Styles was a mystery, a wonder, and Louis couldn’t help but want to get closer, to unravel every secret inside. But he knew he couldn’t. It didn’t matter that he was the only person who knew about Harry and ballet; Louis can’t forget about how Harry avoids meeting Louis’ eyes when they are at the academy, how he looks _ashamed _about what he does; about what Louis also does. He wishes things were different. He wishes he were different, braver.

-

“Hello? Earth to Louis?” it’s the voice of his siter what finally pulls him out his thoughts. He turns to look at her. “You do realize we passed the bakery two blocks ago, right?”

“Shit,” Louis curses, realizing that, of course, Lottie it right. He looks for a U-turn, exhaling a relieved breath when he spots one less than two streets away. “Sorry, Lots, I don’t know where my mind was at,” he lies, eyes fixed on the road, making sure he won’t drive pass the entrance again.

“You know, at this pace Fizzy’s going to be home before us,” she says, and Louis knows she hasn’t dropped the subject yet, she’s purposely deciding to spare him from her interrogation, for which Louis is thankful. “I say you go to the bakery to grab the cake and I’ll go to the store next door to get some balloons and decorations”.

Louis nods, giving Lottie some cash. They work quickly after that; Louis successfully getting and paying for the cake they’d ordered last week, Lottie buying almost half the store in decorations. They drive back to their house, being greeted by shrieks of their twin sisters and her mother’s anxious voice saying _how little time they had left to arrange the house_, _how long they took_, and _Louis you told me you’d be here an hour ago I was worried sick._ Louis kisses her cheek softly at this last statement and assures her that everything was fine, and it had taken him more time than planned to find the book he needed in the library. Lottie clears he throat, hiding a smile and Louis scolds at her.

They all rush through the house, assigning task to everyone. Louis assigns himself for watch duty, as his sisters decorate the house with balloons, and their mom prepares the table with the cake and other stuff to eat she’d prepared throughout the day.

“See, Lottie,” Louis says as he stands up. “Told you I had it all covered,” he throws her a smug smile, half expecting the smack on the head he receives.

“You took forever, and we were the ones who did everything while you were sitting watching us!” she gives him an exasperated look, making Louis laugh. He walks up to her and throws his arms tight around her, making Lottie squirm in an attempt to get out. “Let me go Louis, or I’ll bite you,” she threatens, making Louis let go of her immediately. Lottie smiles, satisfied.

Daisy, one of his twin sisters, shushes everyone when she sees Fizzy walking down the road towards the house. They all gather around in front of the door, making sure they’re not noticeable from the outside of the house. Lottie runs to flick off the light coming from the kitchen and gets back just in time as the door opens, revealing Fizzy.

“Surprise!” they all yell at the same time. The twins throw some confetti at Fizzy, and their mom makes her way to hug her.

It’s all kind of a buzz after that. Fizzy tears up a bit, she’s always been pretty emotional, especially on her birthday. She hugs all of them as they parade around her, giving her hugs and kisses, the twins making it their mission to give Fizzy all her presents, saying exactly which one comes from who. After that, they all go to sit at the table; Louis’ mom starts cutting the cake and passing the plates around, as all them make small talk, sharing stories and memories from Fizzy’s early years, laughing throughout the whole dinner. Louis could not be happier.

Louis knows it’s going to be a bad day the moment he wakes up. He opens his eyes to a terrible headache, and he can hear the screams produced by his sisters coming from downstairs. He feels dizzy when he stands up and he needs to grab a hold of the edge of his desk as he walks towards the wardrobe in order to stay on his feet.

He washes his face and changes into some comfortable clothes. He has classes at the academy this afternoon, so he just puts on some joggers and a loose t-shirt; then he goes to pack everything he needs for ballet into his sports bag.

Once he’s ready Louis makes his slow way downstairs, sitting at one of the stools in the kitchen, murmuring a _hello_ when he enters. He eats his breakfast in silence, wanting to tell his sisters off for being so loud at seven in the morning, but it’s not their fault that he woke up feeling like utter shit, so he lets them be, silently praying for his headache to go away during the day.

“Boobear, are you okay?” his mother asks him. Louis groans at the nickname.

“_Mom_…” he complains, rolling his eyes fondly at her. “I have a bit of a headache but it’s okay, I’m sure it’ll go away soon,” he explains, looking at he with a reassuring smile.

“Lou, are you sure?” she asks, walking over to him and placing one hand on his forehead and the other on his cheek. “Hmm, you don’t seem to have a fever… Do you want me to give you an aspirin?”

“No thank you, mom,” he says, taking the last sip of his tea. “I’m sure it’ll go away in a while, don’t worry,” Louis reassures her, standing up from the table and walking to give his mother a goodbye kiss. “I’ll see you tonight, remember I have to go to the academy today”.

His mother nods in acknowledgment, blowing him a kiss which he pretends to catch and put on his pocket, getting a laugh from his mom at the action.

Louis rushes his sisters out of the house, going by his daily routine of dropping the twins and Fizzy at their school, and arriving with Lottie at theirs –although Lottie usually asks to be drop off a block before the school because _she can’t have her brother dropping her off at the door, she’s fifteen for goodness sake_–. Once all of this is done, Louis drives to the school’s parking lot, quickly locating an empty spot.

After making sure there are not any belongings in sight, he gets out of his car and walks inside the school, allowing his muscle memory to direct him towards his locker. He quickly puts the books he needs on his backpack and, with his head still pounding walks to his first class.

-

The rest of his day passes on a blur of nothingness and pain. The headache does not leave Louis as he had been hoping for, instead it only gets more intense, making him feel dizzier and unalert throughout the day. He bumps into a couple of people on the hallway from one class to another, earning him some dark looks thrown at his back.

He sighs with relief when the final bell rings, indicating the end of his school day.

Louis walks slowly to his locker, he just wants to get the day over with, but he needs to get his ballet clothes and drive himself to the academy.

“Look who’s here!” Louis hears someone yelling from behind him just as he’s about to reach his locker. “If it isn’t our school’s fairy”.

Louis rolls his eyes and continues walking, determined to ignore the voices. His head is still pounding.

“Hey!” one of the yells. “I’m talking to you, asshole,” they continue. Louis reaches his locker and opens it, going through it as fast as he can. He _really_ needs to get out of here.

He jumps when someone closes the door of his locker, so forcefully the noise echoes through the empty hallway. He looks up and meets two pairs of eyes; Matthew and Sam, two members of the football team.

“Are you going to keep ignoring me, love?” Matthew hisses, eyes shining with evil. Louis ignores him, determined to work through the buzzing in his ear, which has been there all day, and not give them the satisfaction of getting to him.

He puts his sports bag securely on his shoulder and turns around without a word.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, _fag_,” Louis is spanned around by a hand grabbing his upper arm. Once he’s facing Matthew, he feels him grabbing his other arm, caging him from any plausible escape; Louis recoils, trying to make himself smaller somehow. “Who do you think you are, huh? I was being nice to you, asking you a question, and you ignore me?” Matthew says, humming, looking at Louis with fake disapproval.

Matthew pushes him back against the locker, knocking the wind out of his lungs, making Louis’ head hit the metal with so much force his vision goes black for a second. He blinks a couple times, forcing out the black dots clouding his sight, his headache intensifying thanks to the crash.

Matthew growls at him –_literally_–, pushes him once again and let’s go of him, making Louis’ knees give up a little bit, sliding down the locker until he musters the strength to stand up right again. Sam throws him a glance before following Matthew like a puppy, not directing another word at Louis.

It takes Louis a few minutes to collect himself, taking deep breaths in order to calm his heart rate. This is not the first time something like this has happened, and Louis is sure it won’t be the last either, but his own reaction to it never changes; he gets scared, he feels like he can’t breathe, throat tightening as his mind goes through the events over and over again. A rush of words going through his mind: _soon I’ll leave, it’s okay, you’re okay, they were just trying to scare, don’t give them the satisfaction, you’re okay_.

He grabs his bag – which must’ve slid down from his shoulder with the impact– with trembling hands, and when he finally feels like his legs are strong enough to walk, he takes one trembling step behind the other, slowly dragging his feet towards his car. He struggles to find his keys and they fall two times before he manages to press the unlock button. He knows he shouldn’t let himself be this shaken up, what happened isn’t even the wort thing Matthew has done to him, but today had been a bad enough day without them. Louis feels as if someone has stumped all over him, tired, moody and with his headache still present. He puts both of his hands on the steering wheel, grabbing it so tightly his knuckles turn white.

Louis drives fast to his house, tears clouding his vision as he goes through the familiar streets.

He doesn’t even realize how long it took him to get there, he just opens the front door, runs upstairs and closes his bedroom door behind him. He rests his back against it, slowly sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor. He pulls his legs towards his chest, hugging them tightly as the first sob escapes from his body. It’s only then he allows himself to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! i hope everyone is okay. this was a ver emotional chapter for me so i hope you enjoyed it
> 
> kudos and comments make me the happiest♥
> 
> you can reblog the tumblr post [here](https://vthelarrie.tumblr.com/post/630594426885079040/dangerous-love-by-vthelarrie-pairing-harry)
> 
> you can also follow me on tumblr ([here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vthelarrie)) and on twitter ([here](https://twitter.com/00svicky)) for updates and previews!


	5. five

**»»–––** ** H ** **–––««**

Harry hated to admit it, but he was worried.

At first, he didn’t think much about it when Louis missed their class at the academy; he was concentrating hard on working on his technique to perfect his _double tour en l’air, _he’d been trying to get land it correctly for the past four classes and today was the first time he nailed it, earning his a round of applause from his classmates. It was at that moment, as he searched with his eyes for Louis, to see if he was happy for him as well, that he noticed the absence of the shorter boy in the class.

He frowned, a bit disappointed –mainly because he wanted the blue-eyed boy to see him landing that hard step– but continued to pour his heart out on his dancing, barely thinking about Louis during the rest of rehearsals.

It’s only by the next day that Harry starts to get worried. Louis is nowhere to be seen at school, and Harry is actively looking for him. He’s not in the hallways or in the library, nor in the English Literature class that they have together every Wednesday.

He didn’t know Louis at all, but something about him told Harry that he was a responsible person and student, and the fact that he was missing both rehearsals and classes must mean that something is wrong. Harry is entitled to get worried, _right_? The worst part is he doesn’t know who he could ask about Louis, did Louis even have any friends at school? Harry didn’t pay much attention to him before their paths were forcefully crossed with ballet, and so far, when he has spotted Louis around school during the pasts few weeks he’s always been on his own.

Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been this aware of his surroundings at school, his eyes alert to everyone he sees in the hallway as he searches for the pair of blue eyes he’s been missing.

By the time lunch break comes around Harry’s mentally exhausted, and he groans when his teammates jump around him when he enters the cafeteria, making a fuzz as they all make their wat to their lunch table. Harry doesn’t pay attention to what they’re saying, his eyes still scanning the large room full of tables and people. He goes to the line to get his tray of food, shaking his head at the people who try to give them their space in the line, and waits patiently for his turn.

Once he’s settled back at the table –lunch in his hand– he decides to look one last time for Louis. After a while his shoulders sag in defeat, and he focuses back on eating his food. Today is a more chilled day, he only has football practice after school, which will give him time to catch up on his schoolwork once he gets to his house. He’s mentally doing a list of the things he has to do that day when he feels an arm resting over his shoulders.

“You okay, H? You seem a bit distracted,” Liam tells him, his brown puppy eyes looking at him worriedly. Harry smiles.

“Yeah, sorry, just a bit tired I guess,” Harry smiles sheepishly, he didn’t think anyone would notice his distress, even if no one knows why he’s worried in the first place.

“You sure? You look proper worried, mate,” Liam says, a frown on his face as he tugs Harry closer to him.

“I’m sure, Li,” Harry tries to reassure him by giving him one of his dimpled smiles. “You ready for today’s practice?” Harry asks in an attempt to change the subject; it must work because he sees how Liam’s face relaxes.

“Yeah,” he exhales, going to grab an apple from one of their teammate’s trays. “I think we have a real chance at winning the regional cup this year, don’t you?”

“For sure,” Harry says, leaning back on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Honestly, I think the new distribution we’re working on right now it’s going to be epic”.

Liam nods animatedly at the statement and they launch themselves into a conversation about new tactics they should use for their next game and about how the new kids who entered the team this year are doing great so far. Lunch break it’s almost over when Harry gets distracted from his conversation.

“Hey, mate,” Harry interrupts Liam, standing up quickly he grabs his backpack from the ground, trying to keep inn sight the blond head he’d spotted. “I’ve gotta go, see you at practice, yeah?” Harry almost yells as he rushes through the crowd of people following the person.

It takes him less than a minute to reach her once they’re out of the cafeteria.

“Hey!” he calls out, making a few heads turn in his direction as he runs to get to her side. He recognized her immediately, her platinum blond hair impossible to miss. He clears his throat once he’s by her side. “Hey, huh, sorry to bother you but, huh, I wanted to ask you something?” Harry says, the words turning into a question at the end.

The girl looks at him with recognition and a bit of apprehension in her eyes; Harry realizes the only way she has of knowing him is the same one everyone else has, to her he’s only the school captain.

“You’re Lottie?” Harry pressures on, and even though the words _are you Louis’ girlfriend _are about to escape from his lips he contains himself.

“Yeah, I am” she answers him, her eyes traveling to see around them, probably confused as to why everyone is looking at them. “Uhm, can I help you with something?” she asks when Harry doesn’t say anything else.

“Yes! Sorry, you know Louis, right?” he asks her, voice going softer now that his initial rush has calmed down. “Louis Tomlinson?” Harry clarifies, not really knowing why, as she’s the same girl he’d called ‘_love_’ when he’d seen them for the first time at the academy.

Lottie narrows her eyes at him, looking skeptical. “Yeah, I do know him, why?”

Harry clears his throat, rapidly going through a bunch of excuses in his mind. “Huh, I noticed he wasn’t in school today and I… I wanted to talk to him…? For a group project,” he lies, hoping she won’t be able to read him as easily as everyone else always do. Harry’s never been a great liar.

“I don’t recall him mentioning having to do a group project today,” the girl says, her guard still up and Harry can’t help but feel exposed under her intimidating gaze. Of course she’d know if Louis has a group project due soon, Louis seems like the type of guy who’d trust everything with their partner. The girl sighs and relaxes her stance when Harry allows for the silence to stretch awkwardly between them. “Anyways, he wasn’t feeling good today, so I–”.

“Is he okay?” Harry interrupts her, his eyebrows furrowing with –surprisingly– concern. He’s not the only one surprised by the tone in his voice, as Lottie raises her eyebrows.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” and she’s not really answering Harry’s question, which makes him frown go even deeper. “I can give him a message for you if you want to. He’s going out during the afternoon for re–, for a thing, so he could drop by your house or something if you need him to,” she continues, but Harry only focuses on the first half of her words, _did she mean rehearsals?_, he thinks. They don’t have their advanced class at the academy today, so her statement only causes for Harry’s confusion to grow.

He realizes a moment to late he still hasn’t answered to her suggestion, so when flushes deep red when she clears her throat uncomfortably. “Don’t worry,” Harry tells her, his brain making a quick decision. “I’ll, huh, I’ll talk to him tomorrow”.

“Okay, then,” she gives him a puzzled look, ties her hair in a ponytail with a scrunchie Harry hadn’t notice at her wrist and nods. “Bye, then,” she says, turning around and leaving Harry in the middle of the sea of people who come out of the cafeteria as the bell rings.

-

Once his football practice is over Harry takes a quick shower on the locker room and changes into some joggers and a hoodie. It’s only the first days of October, but he’s always been sensible to temperature changes, and tends to get cold easily so he tries to keep a fair amount of hoodies at every place –his locker, the locker room they use after practice, his car–, and when winter time gets nearer he’ll add a pair of gloves to his emergency stack.

He says goodbye to his teammates when he’s done, earning him a round of _goodbye captains_ that make him giggle and go smiling to his car. He places both his backpack and his sports bag on the back seat and starts the engine. Harry puts on a random playlist he’s been listening to lately and starts his forty-minute drive to the academy.

He’d made the decision to go to the academy as he’d been talking with Lottie. He still couldn’t figure out why he was intrigued with Louis, but there was something inside him that needed to know more about the other boy. His mind had been travelling everywhere during the day, making it impossible for him to pay attention to anything else except for looking out for the blue eyes of a boy he barely knew. 

Also, he couldn’t help but worry about him. Even if he barely knew him, Harry felt like they had a connection, ballet was their connection, and it gave Harry a sense of reality when he thought about his passion nowadays. For a while since he moved to this small town, it has felt as if ballet was part of a day dream of his, an alternative reality where Harry could be himself, where he could be safe from the outside world, but ever since Louis found out about it, it allowed Harry to see it and to see himself ass something more serious, it was like it had returned Harry the chance to dream for a life with ballet again. It gave him hope for what was to come once he left the town once he graduated.

That’s why he felt a jerk of alarm when he couldn’t find Louis, it was as if he was being forced to go back to his previous life and these past couple of weeks had been nothing but a fever dream.

Was Louis okay? Harry wondered as the academy finally came into view. Had he quitted the advanced class that’s why he hadn’t been at the academy yesterday? Harry hoped not; he’d grown accustomed to seeing him dancing from the corner of his eyes, he pretended to not pay attention to the blue-eyed dancer when they were in the same room, but the reality was that his eyes always ended up wondering in the direction of his moves.

Harry parks into the empty spot right outside the academy, feeling almost like a small victory as he usually has to look around for a while before finding an empty spot. He enters the academy faking a serenity he doesn’t feel, he says hi to Silvia, the academy’s secretary, and without explaining himself he goes straight to the classrooms at the back. Usually the ones at the front are occupied with beginners’ classes, and Harry would usually spend a few minutes watching the babies dancing around the room, but today he’s on a mission.

He stops in front of the last door, hearing the soft music coming through the speakers, barely perceptible thanks to the soundproofed walls. He freezes in his spot when he sees Louis’ figure jumping from one corner of the room to the other, he has a concentrated look on his face, sweat dripping from his face to his collarbones.

Harry’s never seen Louis dancing before, he realizes. He thought he had, especially because they’d been sharing their dancing space for the past two weeks, but it’s never been like _this_. The way Louis is dancing right now is like nothing Harry has seen from him before, and Harry can’t look away; he’s completely lost in his movement and the music, and it takes a couple of minutes from Harry observing to realize that Louis’ posture is not perfect as it usually is during their classes, his feet not 100% coordinated and he’s rushing a bit, some of his jumps landing too early, or starting a sequence a beat too late. _He’s not practicing_, Harry thinks, _he’s dancing_.

The revelation has Harry’s feet moving at their own accord, slowly reaching for the door’s knob to put it open quietly, trying to enter the room without Louis noticing, and it’s not because he wants to hide from Louis, but because he doesn’t want to interrupt, he doesn’t want for this marvelous vision to stop.

Harry enters the room silently, his feet inaudible thanks to all his years of ballet where he’s had to practice landing his jumps without a sound. He positions himself in the corner of the room, right next to the door and _looks_.

He doesn’t know how long he stares at Louis dancing, it’s as if he’s been put inside a bubble where nothing else outside the boy in front of him matters. The dancer repeats some steps over and over again, trying to master some of them, others simply because he enjoys them a lot.

Louis finally notices him when he’s taking a turn. He does it slower than it should be, relishing on the way his muscles contract with the force his gathering to take the first turn on his tiptoes. Harry isn’t expecting it; he’s too focused on the way Louis’ abdomen moves up and down matching his breathing, and he doesn’t notice it when the music stops.

“What are you doing here?” Louis’ voice cuts through his clouded mind, making him look up to meet the blue eyes he’s been looking for all day.

“I, huh, I—,” Harry clears his throat as he feels heat creeping from his neck to his cheeks. “I was worried about you, so I came to look for you,” he says, deciding that the truth is the best way to go.

“How did you know I was here?” and Harry wants to reassure him because Louis looks so confused right now, he just doesn’t know _how_.

“I didn’t,” Harry says, because it is the truth, even if he had spoken with the blond girl, he wasn’t completely sure Louis was going to be here. “I talked with–, huh, I talked with your girlfriend and she said something that made me think you might’ve been here”.

“You… What?” Louis looks baffled, frowning at him as if Harry currently has two heads instead of one.

“I’m sorry,” Harry rushes to say. “I know we’re not like, _friends_ or anything, but I got worried when you missed rehearsals yesterday and then I didn’t see you in school today, so, I don’t know, I thought she could tell me where you were, I’m sorry if it bothers you, I will–”.

“What are you talking about?” Louis interrupts him, this time a reluctant smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know who you asked, Harry, but I don’t have a girlfriend,” Louis lets out a small, nervous laugh, as if he were laughing at some private joke Harry’s not part of. But wait, did he say that’s not his girlfriend?

“I… What?” Harry asks, he’s so confused right now. “I asked the blond girl? The one who comes to pick you up sometimes?”

Louis let’s out a bark of laughter, startling both of them, and he quickly covers his mouth with his hands. “That’s Lottie,” Louis tells him, hands still over his mouth. “My sister,” he continues, slowly lowering his hands until they are swinging by his side.

“Oh,” Harry says.

Louis smiles. “This is the first time someone has suggested that she’s my girlfriend, you know? Usually I’m a bit more obvious about my taste,” Louis explains, and, _what?_

“Your taste?” Harry repeats slowly. Louis gives him a meaningful look and _oh_. “Oh,” he echoes out loud, looking at Louis straight in the eye.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Louis says, looking at the floor and intertwining his fingers nervously. “You–, uhm, never mind,” he laughs nervously, still looking down.

Harry frowns and takes a step closer to him. “Me too,” he whispers, the room quiet enough to allow Louis to catch the words. Harry realizes the word have left his mind a moment too late. This is the first he’s ever told someone about himself, about that part of himself he’s tried to dig deep inside him from everyone in school, and yet here he is, the second true conversation he’s had with Louis Tomlinson and he’s already made him the owner of his two biggest secrets. He didn’t even think about it, it just sort of happened, but he felt like he could trust Louis; maybe it was the fact that he was like Harry as well.

The dancer looks up to meet his eyes, a curious glint adorning his eyes.

“You too?” Louis asks, voice soft and deep. Harry shudders.

“Yeah,” he answers, his voice a little louder this time, but it still sounds hoarse, his throat tight with nerves.

“Okay,” Louis says, nodding to himself. He walks towards the stereo to turn on the music again. “I hope you don’t mind,” he looks at Harry, “but I need to make up for yesterday”.

The words seem to wake Harry up from the weird dream he feels like he’s having. This is not how he excepted the afternoon to go at all. How is it even going? Is it good what he just confessed to Louis? And Louis is _like him_? Damm, he needs a moment to process everything.

He looks down at his hand, which are trembling with so much force he needs to fist them at his side in order to stop them from shaking.

“Why weren’t you at school?” Harry rushes out, inevitably wanting to know what had happened. He also doesn’t want the conversation to end, and if Louis goes back to dancing there won’t be room for talking. Harry really wants to talk, he wants to vent and rant about what being like them is like, about hiding, about anything.

“Are you always this curious?” Louis shoots back with an easy smile on his face. He seems more relaxed, Harry notices, and he can’t contain his lips from returning the smile.

“You haven’t answered my question,” Harry blurts out, still desperately trying to continue their exchange.

“I was just having a shit day,” Louis shrugs, and Harry can see the way the blue-eyed boy avoided his eyes while saying it. “I had a headache and just was a bad day in general, came back to my house after school completely knackered”.

Harry hums in acknowledgment, still feeling like there’s more to the story than what Louis is letting out, but this literally feels like the first time they’re talking –even though it isn’t– and Harry doesn’t want to push it.

He sees as Louis finally presses the play button on the stereo and a soft piano melody starts playing. Louis gets in the middle of the room, changing from first position to third, his body tight as he controls his movements.

“Are you just going to stay there staring?” Louis asks him, a shy smile on his face, walking over to pause the music and look at Harry.

“I,” Harry clears his throat, an embarrassed flush taking over his cheeks. “Sorry, I’ll leave you to it”.

“I–, I was thinking you could help me with the things you went over during yesterday’s rehearsals?” Louis asks, words coming out so fast it takes Harry a few seconds to process them.

“You want me to practice with you?” Harry asks astonished. This is definitely not how he imagined his afternoon going; it’s a thousand times better, though.

Louis nods, “if you don’t mind”.

“I don’t,” Harry answers quickly, walking over to stand next to Louis at the center of the room. They smile at each other and Louis puts the music on again. They dance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! thank you to everyone who's reading the story and taking the time to leave kudos! i'd love if you leave a comment letting me know if you’re enjoying the story so far! 
> 
> this was one of my favorite chapters to write, because they finally start interacting and becoming closer. 
> 
> if you like the story, it would mean the world to me if you reblog the tumblr post [here](https://vthelarrie.tumblr.com/post/630594426885079040/dangerous-love-by-vthelarrie-pairing-harry)♥
> 
> you can follow me on Tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vthelarrie) (vthelarrie) and on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/00svicky)(@00svicky)


	6. six

**»»–––** ** L ** **–––««**

“Put your knee a bit higher,” Harry says, sweat dripping along his jaw line, little drops falling onto his collarbones. Louis raises his knee. “Okay, now hold still,” Harry says, as he walks to stand in front of him, his hand holding Louis’ phone in front of him, ready to take a picture.

It has been four days since _the moment_ they shared at the academy, or so Louis has chosen to call it. After their talk, they stayed for almost two hours practicing steps together, making small conversation one moment, and being in a comfortable silence the other. They haven’t crossed paths in school during these days, and the weekend passed in a blur for Louis. Today is Monday, and since both of them were full of energy due to two days off training, they decided to stay for a while after their rehearsal to practice some more.

It was Harry’s idea to take a picture of him, making Louis blush as he nods, eyes wide in surprise. The green-eyed boy instructs him to get into an attitude, so Louis steps on his left leg, leaving it straight and going up to the position, lifting his right leg behind him, arms stretching to second and fifth position, so one of them is open towards his side and the other one towards the ceiling. He holds still as best as he can for a couple of seconds, but they’ve been practicing for over an hour now, his legs are feeling tired and his sure the sweat isn’t making him look impressive either.

Harry kneels, determined to get the best shot possible. It must not work, because he lets out a frustrated groan when Louis lets his leg fall from the position, intertwining his fingers behind his back to stretch them.

“I’m sorry,” Louis mumbles a bit embarrassed; he really doesn’t like to show that he’s feeling tired or anything but his best shape when it comes to ballet. Having Harry seeing him not being able to hold an attitude makes his cheeks blush with discomfiture.

“It’s okay,” Harry assures him, holding out Louis’ phone towards him. Louis takes it and looks through his recent pictures. “I got some great ones I think,” he continues, as he leans over Louis’ right shoulder to look at the shots as well. They’re really good, Louis is impressed.

“Oh,” he says, putting the phone closer to his face, turning it to the right to show Harry. “I love this one,” Louis says, smiling at the picture. It’s taken from the ground, making his entire body look long and lean, his defined muscles visible through the light tights he’s wearing.

“I love how the light reflects on the skin like that,” Harry says in agreement, their heads so close to each other Louis can feel him nodding to his own words. The lighting really looks beautiful in the picture, taken at the precise moment where it was hitting on Louis face, making his cheekbones glow.

Louis hums, going through the last pictures there are on the gallery from today. “I wish I could’ve held the attitude better, though, but my legs were feeling a bit like jelly towards the end,” Louis laughs, self deprecatingly.

“You did great,” Harry says, taking a step away from him. “Honestly, the only reason the pictures are that good is because of you, I only pressed the button,” he tells him. Louis shakes his head but doesn’t comment any further.

“Well then, thank you for taking them,” Louis says honestly. The only pictures he has from him dancing come from the plays he’s been in; it’s nice to have some from his everyday training, ones where he doesn’t have a face full of make up and it’s just him enjoying himself. He walks towards the mirror in order to drink some water.

“It was nothing,” Harry shrugs it off, a relaxed smile on his lips, and Louis thinks it’s unfair how some people don’t get to meet anyone as beautiful as Harry in a lifetime. They’re missing out. “And it’s not like I did it for free,” Harry says, making Louis trip over his own feet.

Louis looks at him over the edge of his bottle, confused. “What do you mean?” he asks once he gulps the water down his throat.

“There’s, huh, there’s this picture I’ve had on my mind for the longest time, but it takes two people for it to work,” Harry says, and _does he sound nervous? _Louis isn’t sure, he wished he knew him better, because as things are right now, he can’t tell. Louis sits on the floor, taking off his shoes. “So… I wanted to ask you if you’d do it with me?”

Harry walks to sit next to him on the ground, imitating Louis’ action and taking out his own shoes. They stay in silent during the task, and Louis is glad Harry’s not pushing for an answer, instead waiting patiently for him to speak. He thinks about it, and can’t think of a reason to say no, he’s actually flattered that Harry is asking for his help. _It’s only because he has no one else to ask_, a voice says cruelly in his head, but he decides to ignore it.

“Sure,” Louis finally says, his hand moving to his forehead to push away his fringe. “Sounds fun”.

“Great!” Harry says, smiling at him. “How about we do it tomorrow? I’ll bring my camera and everything”.

“Yeah, okay,” and idea pops into Louis’ head. “Hey, how about we do it before the class? That way we won’t be looking all disgusting,” Louis laughs as he scrunches his nose at the thought of all the sweat that’s currently covering his body.

“Oh,” Harry smiles falters a bit. “I–, I have football practice tomorrow after school, so I can barely make it in time for the advanced class,” he explains looking uncomfortable.

Louis frowns. “That sounds like a lot,” he decides to say, because it does sound like a lot, Louis barely has time to do all his schoolwork, get okay grades and practice ballet. How does Harry manage to do all that and adding football on top of it all?

“I guess,” Harry laugh bitterly. “It I what it is, I guess,” he shrugs, and he looks so distraught Louis wants to put his hand on his shoulder and squeeze. He doesn’t.

“That sounds like a life motto,” Louis says, trying to sound light and nonchalant. “You know, like, when things get hard, ‘_it is what it is’_, you carry on”.

“Yeah, pretty much what I tell myself every day,” Harry comments, and it sounds almost as if he’s directing the words to himself and not to Louis. “Anyways,” he says, a bit louder this time. “It’s getting late, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry turns to look at Louis with a soft smile in his face. Louis can’t help it; he smiles back.

“Yeah,” he whispers, trying to figure out the exact shade of green in Harry’s eyes. The boy stands up before he gets the chance, though. Harry offers Louis his hand, and Louis takes it, standing up quickly, the contact gone as easily as it came.

They walk to the changing room, where they quickly –and separately– change into comfortable, everyday clothes. Once they’re ready, they make small talk on their way to the parking lot. It’s a nice change, Louis thinks, to have someone to talk to.

“See you tomorrow, Louis,” Harry says when they reach Louis’ car. An awkward moment passes, where neither of them say anything, just staring in silence, anxiety bubbling through Louis’ chest.

“See you,” Louis tells him, opening his door and getting inside the car without another look at Harry until he’s seated. Harry walk to his car and gets inside as well. Louis watches as the taller boy turns his radio on and takes his phone out, probably connecting its Bluetooth.

Louis starts the engine and slowly makes his way out of the parking, waving a goodbye when he drives past Harry, who returns the gesture with a smile. Louis smiles all the way home.

-

The house is quiet as he makes his way to the kitchen. It usually is when he arrives after a dance practice, the younger twins sleeping, Fizzy and Lottie either sleeping or too busy to talk to him and his mom either taking extra shifts at her work or taking a much-deserved nap. He doesn’t mind, though; he likes the quiet, it gives him a sense of perspective and allows him to think about his day. He usually gets to his house eager or anxious, most of his days she has to fake a smile for his mom and sisters, never talking about how they treat him at school or how he feels lost in his mind, not having a clue about what to do with his life. Those moments alone before he goes upstairs to meet everyone help him regain his composure.

Today is different. He doesn’t have to fake a smile; he doesn’t need to take deep breaths in order to keep his hands from shaking. Today he’s relaxed, his smile genuine and his mind at ease. It feels different. It feels good. He can’t help but wonder how long it’ll take for this calm to be taken away from him.

He removes those thoughts out of his head, _take it one day at a time_, he reminds himself. Today has been a good day, tomorrow might be, it might not, but today it’s what he has right now, and it is enough, for now.

He waits for the kettle to be done, and when it is, he pours some water into his favorite cup to prepare some tea, he rummages through the fridge as he his tea cools down. He grabs a bit of everything to make a sandwich, humming a soft rhythm to himself, and almost lets out a shriek as he closes the door and sees her sister standing behind it.

“Jesus, Lottie,” Louis curses, bringing a hand to his chest. “You scared me”.

“Were you _singing_?” she asks him, accentuating the last word as she puts a hand on her hip.

“‘was not,” Louis turns to the counter to start preparing his sandwich. He frowns; the cheese doesn’t look right.

“Yes, you_ were_!” Lottie exclaims brightly, sitting on the counter next to where Louis is preparing his food. Louis brings the piece of cheese to his nose.

“Does this smell right to you?” He asks, holding the piece in front of her face.

“I’m not smelling that,” Lottie wrinkles her nose, face twisting in disgust even though she definitely hasn’t smelled it yet. “And don’t try to change the subject!”

“Was there a subject?” Louis asks wearily. He throws the cheese on the garbage.

“You were singing,” Lottie states. “You only sing when you’re happy”.

“Is it weird that I’m happy?” Louis questions, frowning. He looks up from the counter to look at Lottie, who’s giving him a meaningful look. _Okay then_.

“Not weird,” Lottie gets off the counter, takes a cup from a cabinet and makes a tea for herself. “Just, _unusual_”.

Louis laughs. “Was that supposed to sound better?” he rolls his eyes fondly at her, clinking his cup of tea with Lottie’s before drinking up. The first sip is always the best.

“Okay, but really,” Lottie says. “I’m happy you’re happy, but–”.

“Eloquent,” Louis interrupts her, joking.

Lottie rolls her eyes. “_But_,” she continues with intent, “I was going to ask you about this a few days ago, actually, but I forgot, so… Why was Harry Styles asking about you the other day?”

Louis thinks about it. He really doesn’t know the answer; he knows Harry told him he’d been worried because he hadn’t attended school or rehearsals, but it still didn’t make sense to Louis why he was worried in the first place. Maybe it’s the same reason why he feels so happy right now, because they both needed to lift some weight off their shoulders, and them finding each other unintentionally did that. It’s the fact that they both know there’s someone else who understands what it’s like.

Even if Harry is actively hiding himself from the rest of the school, no one knows about Louis either, he doesn’t hide it, but no one cares enough about him to know. There’s also a scared part in Louis’ mind that tells him things would be a lot harder if people knew, it would give them an excuse to intensify their bullying, and even if the bullying has subsided during the past year, he doesn’t want it to start again. He has never confirmed he’s gay, he has never talked about doing ballet, and he’s always felt alone among guys his age, but things feel different since he started this friendship (_maybe a friendship? He hopes it becomes a friendship_) with Harry.

“I don’t know,” he finally says, his voice honest. “What did he tell you?” he asks out of last-minute curiosity.

Lottie snorts. “He told me you had a partnering project together or something like that,” she says, rolling her eyes.

“He’s not a good liar,” Louis observes.

“He really isn’t,” Lottie agrees. A few minutes pass by before she speaks again: “You know you can trust me, right?” her voice soft. Louis wraps his arms around her shoulders, pulling her to his chest.

“I know, Lots,” he says, closing his eyes as he presses a kiss to her head. “I love you, sis,” Louis says truthfully, his voice weak.

“Sap,” Lottie says as she pulls away, making them both laugh. “I love you, too, by the way”.

Louis laughs again, content. He goes to the sink to wash his and Lottie’s cups, telling her to go to bed, that he has it covered. She gives him a grateful smile and goes upstairs to her room. Louis stays on the first floor for a while after that, cleaning the kitchen a bit so his mom doesn’t have to do it in the morning, and finally going upstairs when it’s close to midnight.

He changes into one his old shirts and some pajama bottoms, the nights finally starting to get cold enough for him to require a shirt. Louis has just connected his phone to the charger when he gets a message.

He expects it to be from Zayn, but it’s surprised when it shows Harry’s name on it. They had exchanged numbers on Friday, but they hadn’t texted at all throughout the weekend, so this was the first message he’d ever received from the captain. He opens it with shaky hands.

_do you think white or black tights would look better for the picture?? _

_help i’m having a crisis_

Louis lets out a small laugh, before typing back **black, definitely. you gotta impress that camera**. He hits send and waits for a response biting his bottom lip. It comes only a few seconds later.

_gonna trust you, but if my legs don’t look great i’m putting the blame on you >:c._ Louis finds it endearing. 

_goodnight louuuuis _

**goodnight h **

Louis smiles into the dark until he inevitably falls asleep. 

-

The next day goes by painfully slow, Louis counting the minutes until the last bell rings. He’s feeling nervous about this afternoon, so he tries not to think about it unnecessarily, but it’s hard when he’s walking from one class to another and sees Harry leaning against some lockers, some of his teammates and girls surrounding him. Their eyes meet as Louis walks past him. Harry throws him a private smile and wink from across the hallway, none of his friends seem to notice the action. Louis walks into his next class with a smile on his face. 

He gets a text around noon, making him smile when he sees who it is from.

_Zaynie: you have classes today at the academy right?? _

_but like, late right ??_

_nvm i saw the schedule you sent me and u defo have enough time for your best friend_

_gonna pick you up at school!!!!!_

Louis tries to contain his laughter, not wanting to get caught using his phone in classes.

**mate i’m in class , try not to send a thousand messages the next time**

**but yeessssss i miss you**

**see u in a while **

_see you babessss_

Louis pockets his phone again. He’s really excited to see Zayn again; ever since the other boy graduated and he’s using his gap year to travel around, they haven’t had much time to see each other as much as they used to when they both attended school. It feels good to know his best friend is still there for him, even if it’s only once every couple of months.

By the time he’s done with all of his classes his stomach his bubbling with excitement. Louis goes straight towards the front doors, not bothering to look at anyone else as he makes his way to the car parked in front of the school.

Zayn is leaning against the door of his car, and if he were anyone else Louis would be jealous by how _unintentionally hot_ he looks just by breathing. Louis positively beams when he’s standing in front of him.

“Hey, babe,” Zayn says, opening his arms. Louis walks directly to his embrace; he’d really missed his bests friend. “I know, Lou, I missed you too,” he’s patting Louis’ back as he pulls away, and Louis just loves how they can understand each other without words.

“Should we get burgers or pizza?” Louis asks, not bothering to answer Zayn’s previous words.

“Burgers, definitely,” Zayn tells him, starting to walk to the driver’s seat. Louis opens the passenger’s door and gets inside, unconsciously putting his seatbelt on and throwing his backpack to the backseat.

“Right,” Louis says, turning to look at Zayn. “You must be tired from pizzas after going to Italy”.

“I don’t think you can ever get _tired _of pizzas, Lou”.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, smiling. “Off we go then, Z, my stomach is not going to get full by itself”.

Zayn starts he engine and they get in the line of cars that has formed to get out of the parking lot. Louis groans.

“Honestly, mate,” Zayn says laughing. “I don’t understand how you’re so fit while eating mainly junk food”.

Louis reaches into the glove box and takes out one of Zayn scarfs he always keeps in there.

“It’s my secret talent,” Louis tells him smugly as he wraps Zayn’s scarf around his neck.

“Well, it kind of is, actually,” he reasons. “I mean, ballet is the reason you’re fit and it’s also your secret talent”.

“You know what ballet is also the reason for? My hunger, so let’s get out of here,” Louis says, making Zayn laugh as the line of cars finally starts to move

-

They spend a chilled afternoon together. They ended up getting McDonald’s and driving back to Louis’ house, where they decide upon watching the first Twilight movie for the tenth time. It’s one the best things to do with your best friend, Louis reckons, to watch trash tv and movies together.

It’s only when his head is feeling heavy that he decides it’s to stand up and start getting ready for ballet. He goes to his room, Zayn trailing behind him, and prepares his sports back. On the last minute Louis decides to pack an extra outfit, which makes his friend give him a funny look, but Louis doesn’t tell him it’s because he’s taking pictures with _Harry Styles_ after rehearsals and he wants to look at least decent and not in clothes drenched in sweat.

Since it’s a long drive from his house to the academy he and Zayn say their goodbyes quickly, Louis pulling him in for a hug and a promise to see each other soon.

“I’ll try my best, Lou,” Zayn says when they pull apart. “But I’m going to Germany next week”.

Louis pouts. “How long will you be there?”

“Around three weeks, I think,” Zayn shrugs. “It depends on how expensive it is”.

“Drink lots of beer for me,” Louis says, opening his car.

“I will,” he hears Zayn promising as he closes the door.

Louis waves at him and starts his way. The route to the academy is so known to him the forty-minute drive doesn’t feel as long anymore, instead it feels like he gets there in no time with the help of the audiobook playing on the radio.

He doesn’t realize he’s looking for Harry’s car on the parking lot until he feels disappointment sinking on his chest. He shakes his head; he shouldn’t be feeling like this, they’re just becoming something like friends, and he shouldn’t be getting attached to a person he doesn’t really know and who he’s not going to see after graduation. Except, Louis knows perfectly well why he’s attached so easily, so quickly; Harry is a charming person, and Louis can see that better the more they talk, it’s easy to fall for his jokes, and his dimples, and his lame jokes. If Louis had been crushing on him from afar without _really_ knowing him, he didn’t want to think about how it was going to be if they continued growing closer.

Louis suppresses a shudder and steps out of his car, going through his usual routine at the academy: saying hi to everyone, changing into his dancing clothes, going to the classroom and start stretching before the teacher arrives.

Once all of this is done, Louis starts practicing some easier movements, such as turns or holding positions, to warm up his muscles. His classmates say hi to him as they enter and start doing the same as him, but there’s no sign of Harry yet. Louis forces himself to focus, there are almost thirty minutes left before the class officially starts, and even though they’re recommended to arrive early, he guesses Harry doesn’t need all those minutes to stretch as much, since his muscles are already activated thanks to his football practice.

Harry arrives just five minutes before the class starts, walking to stand next to Louis, giving him a smile and a quiet _Hey_, which he returns with a grin.

The class is fairly easy compared to others they’ve had, Mrs. Teasdale makes them work on their jumps, which has Louis beaming at himself as the hour passes; they’re complicated, but Louis loves them, making him look up every time he lands one correctly, his eyes locking with Harry’s in the mirror almost every single time.

Once the class is finally over, Louis and Harry stay around the back of the room until it’s empty. Louis considers going back to the changing room to put on the other set of clothing he brought with him, but he decides against it on the last minute.

“Give me a sec,” Harry says when they’re alone in the room, his eyes shining with excitement. “I’ll go grab my camera”.

“Okay,” Louis walks to the barre as Harry’s leaving the room.

Louis is practicing his splits when Harry walks back, professional camera in hand.

“I didn’t know you were a professional,” Louis jokes, as he steps closer to Harry.

“I wish,” Harry sighs, letting out a small laugh, and _does he look nervous?_

“So,” Louis says, not allowing for a silence to settle between them. “What is your idea?” Harry grins.

“I want us to do a press lift,” he explains, walking to the middle of the room, where the lighting is best. And _oh_.

A press lift is not really a complicated pose, but it does require a lot of strength and some _closeness _to get into it.

“Okay,” Louis says trying to hide his nerves. “Are you going to lift me or…?”

“If you don’t mind?” Harry says, his voice turning into a question by the end. “I was thinking there aren’t that many pictures of two boys doing a press lift, since it’s usually the guy who’s lifting a girl, but, huh, I don’t know, I guess I’d like the idea of one boy holding another one in that delicate way…,” Harry rambles on, and Louis feels himself beaming by how endearing it is.

“That’s–,” Louis cringes when his voice breaks. He clears his throat, “I love that idea, H,” he says, honestly, the nickname slipping off.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind, if anything his smiles grows wider. “Really?” he sounds insecure, even though he’s smiling, and Louis rushes to reassure him.

“Really,” he tells him honestly.

Harry motions Louis to go stand in the middle of the room next to him, so he does. Once Louis is standing next to Harry, the green-eyed tells him to stay there so he can set the camera in a good angle. Louis obeys and watches as Harry puts his camera on a small tripod he’d brought with him.

“Okay, move a little bit to the right,” Harry instructs while keeping his eyes on the viewfinder. Louis moves to the right. “Too much! A little bit to the left, please, yes, like that, wait, no too much, move back to the right,” Louis lets out a giggle as he slowly moves from one side to the other, following Harry’s instructions. At the sound, Harry lifts his head and throws him a dizzying smile.

“I think we should practice first,” Louis says, trying to act cool.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, leaving the camera and walking to Louis. “Okay, I’m just going to try and lift you only by the waist first and then we go up, is that okay?” Harry asks as he stands behind Louis.

“Yeah,” Louis lets out. He feels as Harry places his hands on Louis’ waist, squeezing a bit. Louis’ breath stutters a bit.

“I’m going to lift you now,” Harry whispers, they’re so close Louis feels his breath hitting on the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He nods. And just like that he’s being held up high, he feels light and smiling at Harry through the mirror, who looks up at him with a smile.

Just as quickly, Harry is placing him back on the ground.

“You’re tiny,” Harry tells him, removing his hands from Louis’ waist but smiling brightly, dimple in his cheek.

Louis gasps. “’M not,” he says, faking offense.

“If you say so, Lou,” Harry rolls his eyes, and Louis _does not_ blush. “Shall we try the lift for real this time?”

“Sure,” Louis nods. “Don’t you dare drop me, though”.

Harry laughs quietly, so low Louis would’ve missed it if it weren’t for the fact that Harry is standing literally less than an inch away from him.

“Okay, we’re doing it right this time?” Harry asks, as one of his hands goes to Louis’ waist, while the other one is extended on his side, palm facing up.

Louis nods and, making use of his flexibility, rests one of his legs on top of Harry’s hand. Harry grasps it tightly, tensing his hand on Louis’ waist as well. The shorter boy can feel how Harry’s breath itches as he prepares to lift him again.

One he’s in the air, Louis straightens both of his legs, and because one of them is being supported by Harry and the other one loose it creates an L shape, one of his hands holding on to Harry’s hand on his waist, the other in the air in 5th position. Louis looks at them in the mirror. It’s a sight to behold.

They hold the position for a few more seconds before Harry is putting him gently on the floor again.

“That looks amazing,” Harry says, and he’s positively beaming. Louis nods, smiling back at Harry, at a loss of what to say that wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot. “I’ll go set a timer so we can take the picture,” he continues, starting to walk towards the tripod.

It only takes them three tries to get the perfect shot, or so Harry calls it, smiling so brightly it leaves Louis wondering how it would feel like to trace his dimples, either with his fingers or with his lips.

They look at the pictures and they’re honestly amazing. Harry really has a good eye.

They select their favorites together, and once they’re all ready to leave, standing each outside of their car, Harry promises to send the pictures to Louis as soon as he transfers then to his laptop.

Louis is about to get into his car when he feels a hand resting on his upper arm, touch so lightly Louis has to look down to make sure he’s not imagining it.

“Thank you, Lou-is,” Harry says, adding the last syllable as an afterthought. “It really means a lot to me, that–, that you did this”.

“It’s okay,” Louis tells him. “I really enjoyed it”.

“You did?”

“I did,” Louis gives him a sincere smile. “Remember to send me the pictures, though, don’t be like one of those people who promises to send the pictures and then never does”.

Harry laughs. “I won’t, I promise,” he assures him. They stare at each other, Louis’ staring at the expression written on Harry’s face, he almost looks torn.

Louis is about to ask him what it is when Harry leans over, wrapping his arms around Louis’ shoulder, pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you, Lou,” Harry says, his head resting on Louis’. “I know it may not mean that much to you, but it means a lot to me”.

Louis wraps his arms around Harry, returning the hug. “You’re welcome,” he says into Harry’s shoulder.

He does understand. It’s the first time Harry can truly be himself with someone else. It’s how he felt when he was thirteen and confessed to Zayn why he almost never had time to hang out after school. It’s liberating and scary.

“Drive safely,” Harry tells him as they pull apart, opening up the door for Louis. He nods and gets inside his car, only shutting the door when he says Harry getting inside his own car.

They drive next to each other on the highway, their paths only parting when they’re finally inside their town again. Harry waves at Louis when he notices that he’s taking a turn and Louis continues straight, giving him one last grin before disappearing from view.

Louis does his best to ignore the butterflies in his stomach during the way back home. He doesn’t succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again! thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, you can't imagine how happy it makes me to see when someone leaves a comment or takes the time to leave kudos! 
> 
> i hope you enjoy this chapter, things will start to get interesting from now on, so definitely let me know your thoughts! 
> 
> i don't think i'll be able to update on tuesday because i have a midterm on friday that scares the life out of me haha! so, i'll come back on saturday with a new chapter! 
> 
> if you like the story, it would mean the world to me if you reblog the tumblr post [here](https://vthelarrie.tumblr.com/post/630594426885079040/dangerous-love-by-vthelarrie-pairing-harry) ♥
> 
> you can follow me on Tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vthelarrie) (vthelarrie) and on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/00svicky) (@00svicky)


	7. seven

**»»–––** ** H ** **–––««**

Harry wakes up, frowning. He’s ready to snooze his alarm when he realizes the sound that woke him up wasn’t his alarm, but a text. He reaches for his phone, closing his eyes as soon as the brightness of the screen hits him on the face. He disconnects the charger and opens his messages.

_Louis: you’re a filthy liar_

Harry smiles, quickly typing a reply.

**i’m not. **A reply comes almost immediately.

_you promised to send me the pictures, i don’t see any pictures on the chat harold _

**patience is a virtue**

Harry locks the phone when he sees that Louis isn’t online anymore, so he probably won’t be getting a reply anyway. He rubs his eyes for a few seconds, trying to wake himself up and adjusting to the darkness in his room. As October slowly starts to roll in, the mornings start to become darker and colder, which he hates, because he has to take extra care of himself to avoid catching a cold, as he’s constantly facing changes of temperature, going from working out during practices, then cooling down on his way to the academy, sweating again during rehearsals, and finally facing the cold again on his way home.

He finally gathers strength to roll out of bed, going immediately to the bathroom to wash his face, he has found that’s the only way to avoid falling asleep again.

Harry goes through his morning routine quickly, getting dressed and packing his school bag, making sure to put inside the envelope he left on his desk late last night.

Once he double checks he’s got everything he needs, Harry makes his way downstairs to the kitchen, finding his mom and stepdad already in there.

“Morning,” he says, sitting on his empty stool.

“Good morning, darling,” his mother says, putting a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs in front of him. “I saw you stayed up late last night, so I thought you might some extra energy,” she smiles at him.

“Thanks, mom,” he says, stuffing his mouth with eggs. “They’re amazing,” he tells her, his mouth full.

“Did you sleep alright?” she asks. Harry nods and gulps down his food.

“Yeah,” he answers, giving her a reassuring smile. “I had to stay up to print something, but it wasn’t anything, like, complicated or something”.

“Oh!” his stepdad, Robin, says cheerfully. “Is that for one of your classes?”

“Huh,” Harry hums, cheeks heating up. “Yeah, kind of, I guess”.

His mother throws him a curious look, and Harry feels himself blushing even more. He’s always been a terrible liar, and his sure his mom is able to see right through him. In reality, yes, he stayed up late because he was printing something, but his parents didn’t need to know he was printing out the pictures he took yesterday of him and Louis. He _had_ been planning on just sending them to the other dancer, but when he imported them to his laptop, he couldn’t help to think about how amazing they’d look physically. So, he took the decision quickly; found some photographic paper in one of his drawers and printed out his favorite ones, he placed them into an envelope and simply wrote ‘_to L_’ on it.

“Are you coming straight home after school today?” his mother asks, bringing him back to the present. He nods

“Yeah, there’s no practice or rehearsals today, so I plan on catching up with my homework, yay,” he explains, unable to contain a groan at the end.

“Well, son,” Robin says, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Look at the brightside! You only have a few months left and that’s it! Freedom at last,” he chuckles, making Harry smile brightly at him.

He can’t wait until his words are true, he can’t wait to be free. His plans for moving to London closer than ever. He doesn’t understand why a pair of blue eyes pop into his mind when thinking about it.

-

Harry parks his car on his usual spot, close to the school’s main entrance. It has been his usual spot ever since he got chosen for captain of the team, which he didn’t mind, because it allowed him to wake up a bit later than he would if he had to park farther away. However, today he arrives to school early, his mind focusing on the envelope he knows is inside his bag, his stomach twisting with nerves and excitement.

He doesn’t have any classes with Louis today, so Harry decides to walk to the boy’s locker –or where he _assumes _is his locker, because that’s where he saw him the other day in the hallway– and wait for him there.

In less than five minutes he spots Louis walking towards him. He hasn’t seen Harry yet, so the captain takes the opportunity to admire the dancer. He walks gracefully without effort, and Harry can’t understand how he’d never noticed that before, it’s so _obvious _by the way he moves, it’s like his body is asking to be seen.

Harry realizes with a start that Louis looks down at his feet as he walks. _He doesn’t need to_, he thinks, he’s the most graceful person Harry knows, he could walk backwards blindfolded without falling. Then there’s also the fact that Louis isn’t actually paying attention to his feet, it looks like he’s trying to keep the attention _from_ him, like he wants to look smaller, almost invisible.

Louis looks up when he’s about to reach his locker. His eyes meet Harry’s, giving him a confused look. He’s wearing a big black jumper, so long it reaches his thighs, and black joggers; Harry feels the corner of his lips tugging up at how _comfy and cuddlable_ he looks.

“Hey,” he says when they’re finally in front of each other.

“Hi,” Louis says, looking nervously around them. Harry frowns.

“How are you?” he asks awkwardly, raising a hand to scratch the back of his head.

“I’m good, good,” Louis responds, talking fast. “Would you mind?” he asks, pointing at the locker Harry is leaning against.

“Oh, yeah, shit, sorry, I didn’t know which one was actually yours,” Harry explains, moving away from the lockers to give the dancer some space. Louis gives him a look Harry can’t decipher, but it’s quickly hidden as the blue-eyes boy turns to open his locker and put some book onto his backpack.

Harry clears his throat. “I, uhm, I have something for you,” he says as he reaches into his own bag and extracts the envelope he’d put in there this morning.

He watches as Louis hesitantly takes it from his hand with a frown. Harry bites his bottom lip nervously. Louis carefully rips the envelope, carefully reaching for the photographs tucked inside.

“Oh, Harry,” he exhales, eyes roaming through the three photos he’s holding. He traces one of the pictures with the tip of his fingers, and Harry can’t tear his eyes away from him, silently following the shape of his eyebrows, going down to his cheekbones, his nose and finally, his lips. Louis looks up, his wide eyes meeting Harry’s. “They’re lovely, Harry, thank you,” he whispers, his voice tight with emotion.

“You’re welcome,” Harry whispers back, as a strand of hair from Louis’ fringe covers his eyes. He fists his hands; his fingers itching to reach and gently brush it away. They’re still looking at each other. Harry takes a hesitant step forward, _closer_. Louis opens his mouth to speak.

“Hey, I was thinki–,” Louis’ voice gets cut off by someone yelling over them, loud steps echoing through the hall.

“STYLES!” Harry turns at the sound of his name being called. A group of three other members of his team walking towards him –_them_–; he waves at them, hoping it’s enough for them to walk away. Of course, it isn’t.

“And, what’s this?” Matthew says, sliding his arm around Harry’s shoulder. Harry cringes at the touch, _they’re not even friends_, he thinks, they’re just polite with each other for the sake of the team, but everyone knows Matthew to be the captain of the team and has been jealous of Harry ever since he won the title over him. “Hm, Styles?” he insists, tightening his hold on Harry’s shoulder.

“We have a project together,” Louis jumps in, his voice not leaving room for argument, but Harry can see in his eyes he regrets speaking up.

“Ah,” Matthew says, his eyes narrowing at Louis. “Bad luck, eh, Styles?” he turns to look at Harry with a mocking smile; he doesn’t wait for Harry to give him an answer, though, giving him a pat on the back and walking away, the other members giving Harry a sincere smile and walking away with _see you on practice, cap_, or simply, _bye Harry_.

When they’re alone again, Harry turns back to meet Louis’ eyes, which are already looking up at him.

“I’m sorry,” Harry tells him sincerely. “Matthew’s an asshole”. 

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” Louis shrugs, not denying Harry’s last statement. The dancer tares his eyes away from Harry’s, looking at the hallway where his teammates just disappeared. “If anything, things have been better since you’re captain, so…” Louis cuts himself off, his eyes widening and looking caught.

Harry frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks, voice sounding worried. He might’ve not known Louis before all of this happened, but he didn’t like to think of him being treated badly. No one should be treated badly, for that matter, however, there was something about Louis that attracted Harry, that made him want to protect him, even from the past.

He knows his teammates have not been nice to Louis in the past, he has heard all the rumors his ‘_friends’ _said about Louis – he even was an asshole to Louis when they first met because of it–, but he’s never had any knowledge of the things they’ve actually _done _to Louis.

“Nothing,” Louis hurriedly says, and Harry looks at him even more concerned. “Really, Harry, it’s nothing, and they don’t, huh, they don’t do that anymore so there’s no point in dwelling on it”.

“Lou…,” Harry mumbles, his hand stretching to touch Louis’, but he stops himself midair. “I know you–, I know we–,” he huffs, frustrated with himself. “I know we haven’t _known_ each other for long, but we’re friends now, right?” he waits until Louis gives him a firm nod, a small smile forming on the shorter boy’s lips. “Then as your friend I want you to know you can count on me, okay? I promise I’ll try to help with anything that I can,” he continues, his voice honest.

“I–, thank you, Harry,” Louis says after a few seconds, and he looks so vulnerable, his voice sounds so raw, Harry just wants to wrap him in his arms and hold him. He doesn’t do it, of course, instead he raises his hand and places it softly on Louis’ upper arm. “I’ll see you at the academy, yeah?” Louis asks, his smile looking strained.

“I’m not going today,” Harry tells him, confused. Louis knows they don’t have rehearsals today.

“I know,” Louis says. “I meant tomorrow,” he’s still giving Harry a soft smile, but he takes a step back, making Harry’s hand drop by his side.

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Harry rushes out, looking around to check nobody could be eavesdropping, before lowering his voice. “Are we still staying after class to practice?”

“Of course, Harold,” Louis says chipperly. “Who do you take me for?” he jokes, carefully placing the pictures –which have been pressed against his chest throughout all their exchange– back into the envelope, which he puts inside of his bag just as the bell rings. “Oh,” he exclaims, “expect a text from me tonight because I really need help with the essay we have to do for English Lit and there’s no way I’m finishing it today without help”.

Harry smiles brightly, “I’ll be waiting, then”. Louis winks and turns, most presumably to his first class, leaving Harry in the middle of the hallway, alone with the butterflies in his stomach.

-

Matthew is already at the football team’s table when Harry enters the cafeteria. He usually wouldn’t put a lot of attention as to who is sitting at their table, he knows he’ll end up sitting next to Liam anyway, but today, after seeing the way Louis had reacted to his presence in the hallway Harry _really_ didn’t want to see his cocky grin from across de table.

“Aye, captain,” Liam greets him as he sits on the empty chair next to him.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Hey, Li, how’s your day been?” he asks smiling at his friend, starting to take out the food he’d brought from his house.

“Boring,” Liam tells him. “I swear to you, I can’t stand eight more months of sitting through physics, like, how do people understand that shit?” Liam rambles, making Harry laugh.

“Honestly, mate,” Harry says as he opens his Tupperware, “I have no idea, that’s why I didn’t take physics, or chemistry, or any of that thing this year,” he continues, shrugging. He’s always been more drawn towards the more artistic and humanities related subjects, like literature, law, music, etcetera.

“Really?” Liam asks, eyebrows raised with curiosity. “What do you want to study, then? Can’t believe I’ve never asked” Liam laughs and looks at him expectantly.

“Huh, I don’t know yet,” he shrugs, trying to sound unworried. He knows what he wants to study, he wants to go to a professional academy in London and audition for a ballet company, he just can’t say it.

“I thought you’d do something related to football,” Liam says. It is a normal assumption, Harry thinks, after all, he’s the captain of the school’s team, he’s a good captain and not a bad player, but he guesses that’s because no one really knows about him and ballet.

Harry’s about to open his mouth in an attempt to casually change the subject when he sees Matthew standing up from his seat and walking to him.

“Yo’, listen,” he says, loud enough for his other teammates to look in their direction. “Our poor captain here has to do a project with Tomlinson! You gotta be careful, mate, we wouldn’t want you catching some of his _twinkness_”.

“Right” Harry forces out a laugh, but it comes out breathless, almost as if he’s choking. He feels like throwing up.

“Ow, c’mon Matt,” one of their teammates say. “It’s not that bad, you know? One of my cousins is gay and he’s _alright_, like, he’s normal and everything”.

And Harry can’t fucking stand it, he can’t hear them talking about Louis, about _him_, as if what they are is a fucking cold, or _condition _you can just live with, like _it’s alright, _like as long as he acts _normal_ no one would have a problem with it.

Harry wants to scream, he wants to yell at them and tell that it’s not always easy, but it is a part of you so you love it, that it’s not something that makes you different, but just something that makes you, _you_. He wants to tell them that it’s not a personality trait. Harry wants to tell them that he’s proud of being who he is, even if he’s scared as fuck to do it.

He doesn’t. Instead, he stays silent throughout the rest of lunch. Then, he goes to the toilets and throws up, not sure if he’s more disgusted with them, for being assholes, or with himself, for being such a coward.

-

Exhaustion washes over Harry’s body as soon as he sets a foot inside his house. He can tell by the noises –or the lack of them, really– that neither his mom nor Robin are in the house. Harry lets out a sigh of relief, knowing he wouldn’t have been able to hide his emotions from them.

He goes up to his room, dropping his bag onto the floor with a thud. He undresses himself and hops into the shower, quickly trying to wash –or drown– his feelings. Harry feels like showers are always a good way to restart your life, the water helping him to put his thoughts into perspective.

Once he’s clean and dressed again, Harry sits on his desk, determined to work on his schoolwork; he takes out his textbooks and grabs his phone. There are two unread messages.

_Louis: H ! homework ?_

_only if you want to ofc ! if you already have it done ignore and i’ll manage to do it on my own_

Harry smiles, biting his bottom lip.

**definitely don’t have it done**, he sends back. **let’s do it together pretty please **

_yes !! _

**great can i call u?**

_not if i call you first ;) _

His phone starts ringing the minute the message comes through, barely giving time for Harry to read it before he’s clicking on ‘accept’ with a grin.

“Hey,” he whispers. Why is he whispering? He clears his throat and tries again, his voice a little louder this time. “How are you?”

“Hi, great, give me a sec,” Louis’ voice comes through, before the noises at the other end sound muffled, as if Louis’ covering the microphone with his hand. “Sorry,” he says, voice clear. “Had to yell at my sisters to keep it quiet”.

Harry puts him on speaker and opens his laptop. “Sisters?” He asks curiously, there’s so much stuff he doesn’t know about Louis, and he wants to know it all. “How many do you have, then?”

“I have four younger sisters,” Louis says. “I’m the oldest. What about you? Any siblings?”

Harry smiles thinking about Gemma. “Yeah,” he answers, looking at a picture of the two of them that’s framed on his desk. “Gemma,” he continues. “She’s older than me, and smarter, but don’t tell I said that, she’s in London now though, in university”.

“You must miss her a lot,” Louis comments. “Are the two of you close?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Harry tells him, resting back against the chair. “I feel like ever since she left for uni we’ve become closer? Kind of, like, I appreciate it more, the moments when we can see each other, or when we talk on the phone, they mean more now”.

Louis hums. “I can’t imagine not seeing my sisters every day, but I can’t wait to leave this town,” he laughs, the sound sends shivers down Harry’s spine.

“Same here,” he says earnestly. “I don’t know, I feel so trapped here, and, like, I don’t want to be ungrateful, but–”.

“It’s okay, H, I get it,” Louis interrupts him, but Harry can hear the smile on his voice. He supposes it’s true, if anyone would understand how he feels it would be Louis.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t want to sound so self-centered”. 

Louis laughs, loud and clear through the speaker. “I would be surprised if you weren’t at least a little bit self-centered, _captain_,” and he’s clearly imitating his teammates, and it’s so honest it fills Harry’s heart with joy.

“Shut up,” he mutters, without suppressing his giggles. “I thought you wanted us to do this homework, I didn’t think you called to be _mean_!”

“Oi, I’m not being mean,” Louis complains. “But yeah, let’s do this, I really need to finish this tonight”.

-

The weeks start to pass without them noticing. A sort of unspoken agreement of no public interactions starts between the two of them. Harry thinks the main reason it’s because it’s easier for both of them to stay out of the other’s way during school hours; it saves them from unpleasant interactions like the one they had with Matthew. And, it’s not like they stopped interacting, if anything it feels like the contrary; they talk more every day, sometimes they stay after rehearsals at the academy dancing, other days they’ll use that time to go grab coffee together, if not, they would speak on the phone once they arrive to their houses.

Leaves start to fall and Harry’s happy, more than he’s ever been. This newfound friendship with Louis lifted a weight off of Harry’s shoulders, one he didn’t know he was carrying.

Harry knows he’s daydreaming again, his eyes looking up at the sky when a ball hits him on the back.

“Oi, cap!” Liam is yelling at him. “Concentrate on practice, would you?”

Harry looks at him apologetically, raising both of his hands in a sign of regret. He kicks the ball back to Liam, jogging to get himself back into his position. His teammates can tell he’s distracted today, which earns him a few dark looks when he accidentally steals a pass that wasn’t directed to him.

They glare at him as they make their way to the locker room.

“I think,” one of his teammates, Sam, says as they enter the room. “We, and our captain here especially, could use a break from all of this. So, party at my house tomorrow. It’s Friday and Halloween so y’all better dress up, don’t be lazy fuckers”.

Cheers erupt from all the members of the team, and Harry smiles pretending to be excited, when in reality he couldn’t care less about a party. He has a plan for Halloween; fingers crossed it’ll work out alright.

By the next morning, news about Sam’s party have spread all over the school. Harry can’t go anywhere without hearing the same questions over and over again: _are you going? Have you thought about your costume? _He’s practically running to his car when his final class rolls around, desperate to get to the academy as fast as possible. He wants to dance, and he wants to see Louis, although he pushes that last thought away quickly.

They had agreed last night over their call-study session –which usually involved more of the ‘call’ part rather than ‘study’– to stay after today’s ballet class to dance around for a while.

As usual, Harry pours his heart out on the advanced class, receiving a congratulation from Mr. Teasdale and more than one smile from Louis, which has him beaming. 

Once he and Louis are alone in the room, the class finally being over and everyone out of the room, Harry walks to where Louis is connecting his phone to the stereo and motions for him to stop.

“So,” Harry says once he has the other boy’s attention. “You know there’s a party at Sam’s tonight?”

“Mhm,” it’s Louis’ answer, and Harry can feel his palms start to sweat.

“Do you think–,” he clears his throat. “Are you going to go?”

“Huh, I don’t think so, no,” Louis says, not looking up from his phone as he searches for the playlist they’ve been using since last week. “You obviously are, right?”

“Actually, I sort of have other plans,” Harry says, trying to get Louis to look at him.

“Oh, hmm, that’s cool,” Louis mutters, still not looking at him.

“Yeah!” Harry insists nervously, _this is it,_ he thinks. _I’ll do it_. “I was thinking about a movie night, like a marathon but Halloween themed”.

“That sounds fun,” Louis says, finally setting his phone on top of the stereo and looking up to meet Harry’s eyes, his eyes furrowed. “Who, huh, who are you doing it with?” He asks, his voice low.

Harry feels his heart racing as he opens his mouth to answer.

“Well, I was hoping with you? If you want to?” Louis snaps his head at him so fast Harry is worried it might’ve hurt.

“You want us to watch movies at your house? Tonight? Instead of going to a party?” Louis asks looking bemused.

Harry nods, trying to hide how eager he is for actually spending some time with Louis on their own. And it’s not only that Harry thinks Louis is cute and funny, but also because he genuinely has never been as happy as he’s been the past month, because he wants to know everything there is to know about Louis. He wants them to be whatever they are meant to, either if that’s friendship or more, Harry doesn’t know yet, but he’s determined to find out.

“Okay, but I’m not watching any Disney Halloween movies,” Louis says, giving him a defiant but soft look, as he starts to walk to the middle of the room.

Harry gasps, walking behind him. “But those are the best ones!” he exclaims pouting, and the loud laugh Louis lets out at the sound makes it almost worth it.

“Fine, but only one,” Louis sighs, rolling his eyes fondly. Harry squeaks and claps, walking to the stereo and disconnecting the phone from it, making the soft music that was starting to come from it to stop. Louis turns to look at him with a frown. “Hey, I love that one”.

“We’ll listen to it in the car,” Harry tells him, as he starts to walk towards the door that lead to the changing room. “C’mon we gotta buy stuff to eat and get to my house and it’s a forty-minute drive from here”.

Louis sighs, his mouth twitching as he tries to hold back his smile. “Fine, but I’m in charge of the music”.

Harry lets out a laugh as he nods and walks out of the room, Louis’ footsteps following him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh! Exciting stuff happening from now on! I can't wit for all of you to read the next chapter♥ 
> 
> please please pleasee let me know in a comment if you're enjoying the story
> 
> if you like the story, it would mean the world to me if you reblog the tumblr post [here](https://vthelarrie.tumblr.com/post/630594426885079040/dangerous-love-by-vthelarrie-pairing-harry) ♥
> 
> you can follow me on Tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vthelarrie)(vthelarrie) and on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/00svicky)(@00svicky)


	8. eight

**»»–––** ** H ** **–––««**

In the end, it wasn’t complicated at all. Harry had driven himself to the academy and Louis had been dropped off by his sister, so he just sent her a text to let her know that she didn’t need to pick him up.

Harry saw the texts coming from Lottie asking why he didn’t need her anymore and what was Louis going to do to go back to their house, but the blue-eyed boy only texted back a _don’t worry_ and pocketed his phone, turning to Harry with a smile.

“Ready to go?” Louis asks as they walk outside of the academy, stopping when they’re in front of Harry’s car. He seriously cannot stop himself from opening Louis’ door for him.

They buy frozen pizza and cheap beers from a supermarket close to the academy, the long drive home feeling not as long in between of their banter and conversation.

Harry feels so _light_; in this moment there are no complications, they’re not in school where they have to stay away from each other, they’re not scared to be who they are; instead they are two boys spending an afternoon together. Something that shouldn’t be tainted, that shouldn’t feel tainted, but their circumstances have made them feel like it is.

Louis fidgets with the radio until he finds a station that plays classical music. _Predictable_, Harry thinks with a small smile on his lips as he looks at the shorter boy with the corner of his eyes. Louis is quietly humming the melody on the passenger seat, his eyes closed as he presses his head against the window, making his fringe fall over his closed lids. He stays so still Harry is almost scared he might have fallen asleep, the rhythm of his breathing even and peaceful.

When they finally enter Harry’s street, the football player places his hand on Louis’ shoulder, squeezing gently to get this attention.

“’M sorry,” Louis mumbles, his voice raspy and deeper than usual. Harry suppresses a groan at the sound of Louis’ voice; it’s sweet and melodic, and somehow vulnerable. He wants to hear it again, he wants to record it and play it when he can’t sleep at night, as weird as that sounds.

“Don’t worry,” he says, his hand still on Louis’ shoulder.

“Are we there?”

Harry huffs out a laugh, laying back on his seat to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Yeah, this is my house”.

Louis tears his eyes away from Harry’s and leans forward to look at the house in front of them. Harry feels a sudden wave of nervousness washing over him as he waits for some sort of reaction from the other dancer. Does he think it’s too big? Too small? Does he even care? Harry doesn’t know if he wants Louis to care or not.

He clears his throat awkwardly when it’s clear that Louis won’t say anything.

“Shall we go inside?” He asks, not waiting for an answer before opening his door and getting out of the car.

He sees as Louis struggles to open his own door, the beer cans and the pizza on his hands making the task difficult. He jogs towards the passenger’s seat, embarrassment flushing his cheeks, and helps the other boy out of the car, opening the door for him and quickly grabbing the pack of beers from his hold.

“Thank you,” Louis mumbles, blushing slightly when their fingers brush against each other.

Harry gives him a dimpled smile and motions for them to walk to his house. His mom and Robin are on a date night, so they are met with silence when they step inside the house. Harry quickly runs through the house turning on the lights and making sure it’s looking alright.

“Where do I put this?” Louis asks, still under the doorframe and holding the pizza tight between his hands. He looks nervous, as his eyes dance around the living room, he shifts on his feet uncomfortably and Harry needs to remind himself that _this _isn’t normal; they’ve never actually hung out with the other outside of the academy, and no matter how _right _it feels for him it might not be the same for Louis.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, rushing to take the pizza from Louis’ hands, but the other boy takes a step backwards, a smile playing on his lips. “Louis?”

“I asked you where I should put it,” he says, his eyes shining mischievously, “not to do it for me”.

Harry smiles back at him, his cheeks turning red as he points at the coffee table on the living room. “Coffee table, please,” he says, walking to said table to put on a cloth to protect it.

They set everything on the table quickly, putting the pizza and the beers on top of it. Harry goes to the kitchen to get some glasses and plates to put everything, and when he returns Louis is already laying back on the couch, tv remote on his hand as he clicks through the different titles on Netflix. It makes Harry chuckle at the difference from how he was acting just five minutes ago.

“Comfortable?” Harry says raising one his eyebrows, a smile on his lips to show that he’s only teasing.

“Very much, thank you,” he jokes back, standing up to help Harry with the things he’s holding.

Once everything is set, Harry reaches for the knife he just brought and cuts a slice of pizza for Louis and one for himself. He offers the plate to Louis, who lets out a small, happy squeak, as he takes it from him.

They eat in silence as Louis picks a movie; Harry comments on a few, saying that he already saw it or that he’s excited about that one, until he settles on watching the reactions coming from Louis as he reads the synopsizes and watches the teaser trailers. His lips frown in the tiniest pout during the trailer of a dramatic series, or his eyes widen in surprise when an explosion happens during the one of an action movie. It makes Harry’s stomach flutter to see the emotions flashing across Louis’ face, he wants to put his arms around his smaller body and hold him tight.

“What about this one?” Louis asks, pulling Harry away from his thoughts. He looks at the TV, where Louis is pointing to _50 first dates_.

“Yes!” he says excitedly, that movie is actually one of his favorites and he’s always up for a romantic comedy.

Louis clicks on the _play _button and lays back on the couch as the movie starts playing.

Harry is fidgeting in his seat more often than not, his body prickling with the sensation of Louis’ warmth so close to him. His fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and tangle themselves with Louis’, and he has to constantly fist his hands throughout the movie to avoid doing something he might regret.

He focuses instead on paying attention to what’s happening on the screen and to the reactions it gets from Louis. The boy laughs quietly as the movie progresses, his eyes crinkling with the effort to hold back his giggles. Harry wishes he wasn’t holding back, he wants to listen to his unrestrained laugh, he wants to run his fingers lightly over Louis’ cheek, just to feel him smiling under his pads.

It’s when in the movie the characters are discussing about birthdays that Louis turns around to face him. Harry looks away hurriedly, his heart racing at the thought of being caught staring at him.

“When’s your birthday?” He asks, a curious glint in his eyes making them look _so so so blue_ Harry needs to concentrate in order avoid getting lost in them.

“February first,” he whispers, not really sure why.

“Oh,” Louis whispers back, looking back at the film for a second before meeting Harry’s gaze again. “So, you’re still a baby”.

“Hey,” Harry complains, blushing at the thought of Louis calling him _baby_, “I’m not a baby, I’m seventeen”.

“Baby,” Louis repeats, nodding as if he’s just proved a point.

“How old are you then old man?”

“I’m about to turn eighteen, thank you very much,” Louis says looking smug. Harry just rolls his eyes.

“If you’re almost eighteen then you’re seventeen, what are you doing calling me a baby?” He sticks his tongue at Louis, blushing deeply when he sees Louis’ eyes following the movement.

“I’m still older than you, though” Louis shrugs, his eyes still glued on Harry’s lips.

“When is your birthday?” he asks curiously, it must be pretty soon if Louis said he’s about to turn eighteen.

“December 24th”.

Harry gasps, “you’re a Christmas baby!” he says excitedly, shuffling closer to Louis on the couch, making sure there’s enough distance between them that none of their body parts are touching. “Oh my god, that’s crazy!”

“Come off it,” Louis lets out a laugh, rolling his eyes fondly at Harry, “it’s not as great as it sounds, unfortunately, you get less gifts and a lot of people forget,” he explains, bending forwards to grab another slice of pizza. Harry’s eyes travel unconsciously to the small portion of skin that shows on Louis’ lower back, where his shirt has rolled up allowing Harry to notice the dimples at the bottom of his spine.

He clears his throat and looks away quickly, trying to focus back on the movie that’s still playing in front of them.

“Well,” he says once his heartbeat has regained normal speed, “I promise I won’t forget it”.

“Yeah, right,” Louis snorts sarcastically, “you barely knew me a month ago, Styles, I doubt you’ll remember me in a month”.

Harry frowns, feeling a jab in his chest as he lets Louis’ words sink in.

“I don’t think I could ever forget you,” he says earnestly, because it is true; even if they’ve only started talking a couple of weeks ago, Harry thinks these have been the best weeks of his life, he has never felt as free as he has ever since he started talking to Louis, he has never been this nervous to be with a _friend_ on his own before, and he’d be an idiot not to realize the reason behind it. He’s scared, though, he isn’t sure if Louis feels the same, or if he ever could, but he _needs _to make sure that Louis at least knows that Harry cares. “We’re friends now, right?”

Louis eyes him carefully before nodding slowly, “yeah, I’d say we’re friends”.

“Okay, me too,” Harry says, “and I don’t want us to stop talking, I want us to keep hanging out if you want that too,” he insists.

“You want us to keep hanging out, but still avoid each other in school, right? No one can know we’re friends,” Louis states firmly.

“I didn’t think that was what you wanted,” Harry frowns, confused. Louis was the one who stayed away from him in school after what had happened with his teammates. Being completely honest, yeah, it is easier to be friends with Louis only outside of school, but Harry wouldn’t be opposed to, if he were braver, if they were braver. “I thought _you _wanted us to keep this outside of school”.

“That’s what I want, I guess,” Louis says, and it just confuses Harry even more.

He decides not to push the subject, though. He knows Louis is probably confused, maybe even more than he is himself. A month ago, Harry was just another one of the popular kids, Louis undoubtedly thought that he was just like the rest of his team, someone who’d make fun of him if they ever found out about ballet and his sexuality. Louis just discovered he isn’t like that a few weeks ago, it’s understandable that he isn’t sure where he stands on Harry’s mind. He may think Harry just puts up with him to keep his secret, even though the reality it’s the complete opposite.

He wishes he could explain it to Louis without pushing him away. He wishes he could ease the fears on Louis’ mind, fears that his friends (or what he thought were friends before meeting the dancer) have put on his head, that they have put on both of their heads. He wants to tell him that they can be strong together, that it’s only this year and then they’ll be free, that he hopes they could be free together, either as friends or as anything Louis allows him to be.

They continue to watch the movie in silence, Harry barely paying any attention to it as his mind starts to daydream about everything that could happen if they continued to be friends after they graduate. Would they continue talking even if Harry moves away? Would Louis go to London as well to pursuit a career as a dancer or does he plan on staying in Doncaster?

He watches Louis from the corner of his eye, his gaze focusing on the goose bumps on his arms and the shudder that runs through his body just as Harry frowns.

“Hey,” he says, this time turning around to look at him straight in the eye, “are you cold?”

Louis blushes and nods timidly, and _god_, Harry wants to hug him so bad. He stands up and walks to the laundry room where they keep a pair of blankets, he grabs the softest one and heads back to the living room, smiling when he sees Louis has taken off his shoes and it’s clutching his legs close to his chest.

“Here you go,” Harry says when he’s in front of him; he knows Louis probably can’t see the movie right now, as Harry is holding the blanket open and gently lowering it over him until the only thing visible is Louis’ head.

“Thank you,” he says, tucking the blanket under his chin and looking up at Harry gratefully.

Harry gives him a soft smile; he’s sure he looks like an idiot still standing in front of the other boy whilst smiling and looking down at him, but the blush covering Louis’ cheeks as he returns his stare makes it worth it.

He finally sits down next to Louis again, the blanket covering the other boy’s body creating a division between them Harry isn’t sure he wants. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he just crosses his arms over his chest, taking out his shoes and focusing on the movie again.

“You’re cold,” Louis says when a chill run down his spine, making Harry shiver visibly.

“I’m fine,” he lies, not really wanting to stand up to get another blanket for himself. The movie should be over pretty soon anyway, so he settles for tightening his grip on his forearms.

“Here,” Louis lifts the blanket from his body, sliding closer to Harry on the couch and spreading it open, until it can cover both of them. “Better?”

Their thighs are brushing against each other, their shoulder touching slightly, making Harry shiver for a whole different reason; he smiles as tilts his head to look at Louis, “much better, thank you”.

Louis returns the smile bashfully; their faces are so close Harry can feel the air coming out of his mouth every time he exhales. It makes Harry dizzy with want, he wants to be closer, he wants to catch every bit of air with his mouth, he wants to see those blue eyes up close, pretending he has all the time in the world to count the different shades of color in them.

He’s forced back to reality as soon as Louis turns his head towards the TV again, tearing his eyes away from Harry’s. They watch the rest of the movie in silence, and Harry is in awe over Louis’ capacity to concentrate on the movie when all he can think about is the warmth of their bodies pressed together under the blanket. He feels Louis moving in his place, shifting his body weight in a way that he’s almost laying against Harry’s side.

Harry carefully slides down the couch, positioning himself until Louis’ head is resting on his shoulder. He hears the shorter boy’s breath stutter.

“This okay?” he whispers, tilting his head to keep himself from burying his nose on his hair.

“Yeah,” Louis whispers back, moving his head to get comfortable on Harry’s shoulder.

Then, a thought pops in his head: _kiss him_.

Kiss him until his mind is blissfully blank. Kiss him until neither of them can breathe. Kiss him until his heart fells light and full at the same time.

Harry takes a deep breath, turning his head to look at Louis. The boy, feeling the pair of eyes in him, looks up; he still has his head on Harry’s shoulder, but his eyes are locking with his, the hope and nervousness shining behind his blue eyes matching the emotions on Harry’s green ones.

Inexplicably, Harry thinks of something he read the other day while investigating for one of his classes; there’s a word, from a native community in Chile, it is ‘_Mamihlapinatapai_’, the word had caught his eyes because it was listed as the most succinct word in the world; and it means: looking at each other hoping that either will offer to do something which both parties desire but are unwilling to do.

It captures the moment perfectly. Louis is shifting his gaze from Harry’s mouth to his eyes, and then back to his mouth, and Harry is sure his eyes are doing exactly the same. The air between them prickling with electricity, a perfect mix of held back apprehension and expectation.

He’s leaning in, not noticing how close their faces are getting until his nose is pressed against Louis’, but Louis–, Louis is leaning in as well.

Harry slowly moves his head from one side to the other, deliberately staring at Louis’ eyes as their noses brush together in a gentle, soft Eskimo kiss.

Louis lets out a choked, airy giggle, and Harry is just so _so _endeared by this beautiful boy he can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing their mouths into a kiss.

Their lips brush together swiftly, Harry swallowing the small moan coming out of Louis in surprise. He moves around without breaking the kiss until he’s facing Louis, his hand moving trailing from Louis arm up to his shoulder, trying to feel all the skin under his palms as he finally settles it on Louis’ cheek, thumbing over his cheekbones, caressing the tips of his eyelashes that flutter under his pads as Louis closes his eyes.

He nibs at his bottom lip, tracing it with his tongue slowly, wanting to taste every corner of his mouth. Harry feels Louis opening his mouth, which he immediately takes a sign to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue and brushing it against Louis’.

They fight for dominance as their kiss gets more heated, Harry’s other hand which has been laying useless on his lap, travels to Louis’ waist, tugging him closer. Louis leans into him compliantly, their chest pressed together as the shorter boy wraps his arms around Harry, one of his hands clinging tightly on his back as the other travels up to tangle in his curls. He feels Louis tugging firmly on his hair when Harry bites his bottom lip, the action producing a moan to come out of Harry, which is quickly silenced by Louis’ mouth.

“Harry,” Louis breathes out, faintly putting space between them as he tilts his head back, whimpering when Harry starts to trail kisses down his neck, shifting from sucking and nibbing, licking and kissing, careful to avoid getting any marks on his skin, but firmly enough to make sure Louis _feels _him.

He’s about to let his hand settled on Louis’ waist to go further down when a loud sound makes them jump apart.

Louis fumbles with his hands until he takes out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, he pointedly avoids looking in Harry’s direction as he stares at the screen trying to catch his breath. Harry looks at the phone as well, his chest raising heavily, the sound of his and Louis’ pants are the only noises accompanying the ringing coming from the phone.

“Lou–,” Harry starts to say when he notices Louis is not making any moves to answer Lottie’s call, but as soon as Harry speaks, Louis seems to blink himself out of his stupor, and raises the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Lots,” he says when he swipes on his screen to answer the call, clearing his throat before speaking again, “yeah? No, I–, yeah, well I don’t have my car with me if you don’t recall…,” Louis rolls his eyes, moving on the couch to put space between the two of them. Harry rubs his hands together nervously, his heartbeat slowing down as he looks at boy seated beside him. Louis frowns listening to whatever his sister is saying, and Harry wants to hold his hand, “I–, no, I–, I’m at a friend’s… no, not Zayn… yeah, fine, I’ll call an Uber I guess… sure, bye Lots”.

Louis hangs up, and Harry fish mouths in lieu of something to say. He watches carefully as Louis opens the Uber app, requesting one quickly, still not looking up from his phone to meet Harry’s eyes. The taller boy bites his bottom lip nervously, his hands still clasped tightly, which are growing sweatier, as the silence stretches awkwardly between them.

“Sorry, I have to go,” Louis finally says, standing up slowly, making Harry jolt in his seat, his back straightens as he untangles his hands, trying to reach for Louis. 

“Lou…,” he starts to say, but he closes his mouth when he realizes he doesn’t know how to continue. He stares as Louis takes a step away from him, making Harry’s hand fall on his lap once again. The dance puts his backpack on his shoulder, griping tightly his sports bag on his other hand as he walks towards the door and opens it.

Louis’ phone beeps with a notification, probably letting him know that his car is already outside if the way he sighs in relief is anything to go by.

“Bye, Harry,” Louis says, pocketing his phone once again as he turns around to give Harry a stiff nod, before walking out, closing the door behind him, leaving Harry confused and lost on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO! I'm so so sorry for the delay on this chapter :( don't want to waste time with excuses but just know that it was due to external reasons (aka, computer problems) lol. 
> 
> Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter because OH MY GOD FINALLY! Let me know in a comment what you think! What do you think Harry will do? How will Louis react? 
> 
> Next chapter coming next saturday! So only a week to go xx
> 
> if you like the story, it would mean the world to me if you reblog the tumblr post [here](https://vthelarrie.tumblr.com/post/630594426885079040/dangerous-love-by-vthelarrie-pairing-harry) ♥
> 
> you can follow me on Tumblr [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vthelarrie) (vthelarrie) and on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/00svicky) (@00svicky)


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